


Beep Beep Rich

by Anonymous405



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Cheating, Drug Use, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Fix-It, Homophobia, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Minor Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Pennywise (IT) is His Own Warning, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:54:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 36,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21948388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous405/pseuds/Anonymous405
Summary: You have to keep scrubbing Eddie.  Keep scrubbing until all the filth is gone.  Eddie closed his eyes, grabbing the small soap and scrubbing every inch of his body.  Every inch must be spotless, Eddie, or you'll catch someone's disease and die.  He couldn't look down at the sight of his body in fear of throwing up; he moved his arms to his chest with the soap, scratching the dirt away since he couldn't find a loofa anywhere.  Once he felt somewhat satisfied, he moved towards his left arm, then his right arm.  Slowly moving towards his ribs and stomach, he realized.  I died.   I fucking died.  I died saving Richie 'Trashmouth' 'I fucked your mom' Tozier.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 46
Kudos: 111





	1. Chapter 1

_"BEEP BEEP MOTHERFUCKER!"_

_"RICHIE! I THINK I KILLED IT! I THINK I-"_

_"R..RICHIE?....RICH?"_

* * *

"Richie? Honey?" Bev's voice, smooth and soft, allowed Richie to wake up from his dreaded nightmare. The same nightmare he's been having since-

"Hey Bevvy," Richie forced himself to sit up and look at her. Sitting on the bed, she placed a hand on Richie's leg sympathetically. "What time is it?" 

"Almost noon," She gave him a small smile, a small pitiful smile. If Eddie was here, he'd yell at Richie for being a lazy ass and wasting the whole God damn day away. But Eddie isn't here. Eddie won't be here. Eddie's gone.

"Damn, it's that early?" Richie joked, yawning, "Don't you know great comedians, like yours truly, need at least seventeen hours of beauty sleep for the camera? Why are you sleep-depriving me, woman!"

"Because we all promised to spend the day together, and we can't do that if you lie in it the whole time." She joked back. That's what Richie always liked about Bev; she knew how to keep the joke going. She was good, but she sure as hell wasn't Eddie. "You do remember what day it is, right?"

"Sorry, I left my calendar at home." Richie teased, grabbing his glasses. Ever since defeating It, days have slipped past Richie. One minute it would be Monday morning and the next it would be Saturday evening. It didn't matter though; Richie wouldn't care if his whole life just disappeared. Nothing really matters now. Before Bev could continue their banter, a small knock came from Richie's door.

"Merry Christmas buddy," Ben gave a weak smile, unsure whether to come in or not. Bev motioned him over and he put a hand on her shoulder. "Mike and Bill are in traffic. Probably because of the holidays."

"I told Mike he should have flown days earlier." Bev rolled her eyes, patting Richie's knee, "Come on, Ben made breakfast." For a few weeks now, Ben and Bev have stayed with Richie in his home in L.A. They said it was to help him clean his space up for when all the Losers came together for the holidays, but Richie isn't stupid. It was to check up on him; to make sure he is okay. To make sure he doesn't kill himself.

"Alright mom, I'll be down in a minute," Richie smiled, watching Bev and Ben leave, but as soon as they left he slammed his head back on the pillow. Weakly, his hand reached around his bedside table, fumbling for the orange bottle, containing what Richie liked to call "Happy Pills". Eddie would disapprove, he always thought before choking one down. "Tough shit, Eddie's not here." _He will never be here. He will never be anywhere. He's dead._

To Richie, being dead doesn't sound so bad right now. But he can't, unfortunately. Eddie would hate him forever if he knew he died protecting his best friend just so for this so-called comedian to hang himself in his apartment. Richie could never do that to Eddie. At least not now.

"What's for breakfast, pops?" Richie poked at Ben as Bev was setting up the dining room table for dinner later. "Ooh, scrambled eggs, turkey bacon, and fresh fruit? Wow, mom, did you know pops was such a cook?" He winked at the redhead as she giggled. 

Richie fixed himself a plate, sitting down to eat at the island counter as his phone beeped. He checked it, thinking it was Bill or Mike asking which complex he lived at or his manager wanting to discuss the deal Netflix has for his new comedy special. However, it was none of these things.

"Who is it Rich?" Ben curiously peeked over.

"Just a rando. Probably a crazy fan. You know how it is, Bevs," Richie stuffed his mouth and set his phone down on the table, "Didn't know being famous would come at such a demanding price. Hey, this food is great and all, but I do have to finish a new routine before Bill and Mike come so....may I pretty pretty please be excused?" He batted his eyes at both Bev and Ben, who shrugged.

Richie smiled, grabbing his phone and going back to his room. As soon as he closed the door, he sighed heavily, placing his hand on his head. "I miss you, Eds. Too fucking much." Richie whispered, slinking his way back to his bed, grabbing the bottle of whiskey from his drawer and taking another Happy Pill. Closing his eyes, he gulped straight from the bottle, waiting for the dreariness to kick in. _I told you to stop calling me Eds._


	2. To Stanley and Eddie

"How the hell do you get lost in L.A.? You've been living here for YEARS Billy-boy!" Richie swayed his finger at his best friend as the other Losers continued to laugh around the dinner table. "Honestly directions and writing endings for novels should definitely NOT be considered in your skillset." jabbing at his friend in a jovial manner.

"In all fairness, I have never been in this part of town," Bill replied sheepishly, smiling down at his plate, "You could have, I don't know, gave us directions to your place instead of ignoring my text messages."

"And put you in risk of texting and driving? What kind of person do you think I am?" Richie placed his hand to his chest, feeling offended. Mike chuckled as Bill rolled his eyes. "Anyway, Michaelangelo, how is your process of getting the fuck out of that wasteful place we all call our hometown?"

"Well, as you all know I've always dreamed of going to Florida, but I'm not really sure if it's the best fit for me. I'd rather be closer to you guys if I'm being honest-" Mike continued, but Richie was half paying attention as his phone kept buzzing in his pocket. He glanced down to look at it and sure enough, it was another random number. Actually, it was the _same_ damn random number. Ignore.

"I just want to say," Bev said as soon as Richie began to pay attention to the conversation again, "I am really happy that we could all be here today. For the holidays."

"Most of us at least," Richie blurted out, but really didn't mean to. Fuck, he's been trying so hard to be good and not be such a buzzkill to everyone since what happened. Fuck, now there's just awkward silence. Think of a joke, Trashmouth. Just one fucking joke you pathetic sack of shit.

"I miss them too, Rich," Bill interrupted the brief moment of silence and place his glass in the air. "To Stanley and Eddie. We...we really miss you guys," Everyone clinked their glasses. Eddie did not fucking die just to be a fucking awkward toast.

"As much as I love you all, I do have to depart our little get together. Something's come up with work," Richie lied through his teeth, "I'll be back later tonight. I just, uh, have to meet my manager about my new special." Before anyone could protest, Richie grabbed his keys, wallet, phone, and coat and walked out the door.

Walking the streets of L.A. always seemed to calm Richie; for some reason, he was able to get out of his head and just view the beautiful city. No matter what time of day, the city was always alive. Richie liked this because, as much as he hated to admit it, it helped him escape his fucking awful mind. He could walk for hours around the city and not even realize it. However, his escape from reality was cut short from the vibrations coming from his phone. The same fucking number. Ignore. For the few seconds of staring at his phone, Richie, being the klutz he is, bumped into a stranger. A familiar stranger. A really....really familiar stranger.

"Richie? Richie Tozier?"

"Connor?"


	3. Eds.

Barren walls. The only light creeping in came from the battered motel window. The tv was on low volume, showing some old sitcom. The floors were covered in filth, as was everything in this place. But he didn't care. He didn't have the strength to care. 

Waking up in a state of panic and pool of sweat, he jerked himself upright. "What the fuck happened?" He groaned, straining to keep his eyes open. His head throbbed in pain as he looked around the room bewildered. "What the fuck is happening?" He tried to get up, but he was unable to will himself out of bed. _Too weak. You will always be too weak._

"Fuck this," He grunted, willing himself out of bed. _Where the fuck am I?_ He thought as he leaned against the dresser. The fucking disgusting dresser. He looked up in the mirror, analyzing his face and clothes. It's the same clothes he's worn in the sewer, and he can tell from the large bloodstain in the middle of his abdomen. _Fuck Fuck Fuck_. He hurriedly rushed to take his shirt off, throwing it as far away from him as he can. _It's diseased. I slept in fucking diseased clothing._ He shuddered at the thought, quickly removing his pants and boxers, quickly entering the bathroom and turning the shower on to extremely hot. He inspected the small shampoo and conditioner bottles. He was in a Motel 6. A fucking Motel 6. Eddie Kaspbrack was in a fucking Motel 6. 

_You have to keep scrubbing Eddie. Keep scrubbing until all the filth is gone._ Eddie closed his eyes, grabbing the small soap and scrubbing every inch of his body. _Every inch must be spotless, Eddie, or you'll catch someone's disease and die._ He couldn't look down at the sight of his body in fear of throwing up; he moved his arms to his chest with the soap, scratching the dirt away since he couldn't find a loofa anywhere. Once he felt somewhat satisfied, he moved towards his left arm, then his right arm. Slowly moving towards his ribs and stomach, he realized. _I died._ _I fucking died. I died saving Richie 'Trashmouth' 'I fucked your mom' Tozier._

He hurriedly wrapped a towel around his abdomen, looking around to find out where exactly he fucking is. He flipped around that "dining out' menu hotels always have, looking at the phone numbers and addresses. "Portland Maine? Why the fuck am I in Portland Maine??" Eddie began to hyperventilate. _R-Ritchie?_ He scrambled his hands into his pockets, hyperventilating when he couldn't find his inhaler. _Fuck...the ritual of Chud...God Damn it, Ritchie!_

Wobbling back to the bed, he grabbed the phone from the table and dialed the first person who popped into his mind.

* * *

"Pick up the fucking phone, Rich!" Eddie groaned as he got the Trashmouth's voicemail. _"Ello Govna'! You reached the ole' Richard Tozier's voicemail. I'll give ya a beep beep when I feels like it I will! Ta Ta!"_

Eddie could feel his skin crawling, begging for him to take another shower. _You aren't clean enough, Eddie-dear._ Eddie raced to the bathroom, grabbing the soap and scrubbing the shit out of his skin. Resting his head against the shower sink, he continued to scrub; feeling his face, he couldn't find the bandaid patch on his cheek. Nor the fucking scar that should be there for that matter. _What the fuck??_. He clung to his chest, trying to do the breathing exercises Myra and their marriage counselor had taught him. _1..2...3....4.1..2...3....4...._

Grabbing a second towel, a new, clean-ish towel, Eddie raced to the phone. He went to call Myra, but he couldn't bear himself to put in the number. She probably thinks he's dead, and he really doesn't blame her. He tried to scramble for names, but only one would continue to ring in his head. "You better fucking answer Ritchie or I'll fucking kill you."

* * *

"Jesus fucking Christ Rich!!" Eddie slammed the phone down right when the voicemail said _"Ello Gov-_ _"_. Eddie couldn't breathe right now and had no fucking clue what to do. He didn't have any clean clothes. He did not have his wallet, or phone, or anything. "Richie, I am begging you to answer your phone." Eddie cried, dialing the number once more. "You are the only person I can count on right now," Eddie whispered, listening to the first ring. The second ring goes by, causing the tightness in Eddie's chest to flare up. The third ring goes by and Eddie honestly swears he's going to die if he doesn't answer. _Die again._. 

The fourth ring comes to an abrupt stop as an annoyed voice answered the phone.

"Look I don't who you are but you need to stop calling me or I'll-"

"Ritchie?" 


	4. The Conversation

It felt like an eternity passed before either of the Losers answered. Luckily, Eddie was able to break the tense silence. "Look, Richie, I need your help. I don't...I don't know who else to turn to."

"Who the fuck is this?" Richie's voice was cold and harsh, if he hadn't remembered Richie's phone by heart, he probably would not know who the hell he was talking to.

"Richie, it's me, Eddie." _Silence. Fucking Silence._ "Richie, please fucking answer me I'm-"

"Why are you doing this to me?" Richie spat, "We fucking killed you. Twice. How many more times do we fucking have-"

"I'm not fucking Pennywise, dickwad," Eddie interrupted, "It's Eddie, motherfucker. So beep beep and come pick me the hell up." He could sense Richie lightening up. _If Richie died and called me, I'd flip my shit too._ "I don't know how, but I'm in a fucking disgusting Motel 6 in Portland Maine." 

"Portland?" Richie hummed, amused by Eddie's answer, "How the fuck did you get from a sewer in Derry to fucking Portland?" Eddie tried to think of an answer, but before he can say anything Richie continues, "I watched you die, Eds." His voice muttered in a broken voice, "I see it every fucking time I close my eyes. "So please, Pennywise," He choked, "You can kill me and do..do whatever you monsters do to the corpses of their victims if I can just pretend and spend a day with Eddie?" 

Eddie began to tear up. The moment he heard the question, he began to cry. What he did to his best friend because he had to fucking die. What he's doing to his friend now by coming back to life. "Rich...I don't know how to make sure you trust me, but I swear to whatever fucked up God that allowed for any of the bullshit we've been through to happen, I am not that fucking monster. Please...let me show you."

Silence one again captivated the phone line. Eddie exhaled, knowing damn well Richie still doesn't believe him. _Maybe I am a fucking monster...I mean who the fuck just wakes up from being stabbed in the gut and dying??_ "Please, Richie? I really fucking need you, buddy. I really-"

"Okay."

"O..Okay?" Eddie wrung his free hand around the phone's wire. 

"Can you text me the address?" Riche's voice was quieter and less cold. 

"I don't have my phone. I'm using the phone in the hotel-"

"Why the hell are you at a hotel?"

"Look, I don't fucking know! Just come pick me up. The address is-"


	5. The First Time Since the Accident

The knock on the door both startled and excited Eddie. With his heart skipping a beat, he quickly went to the door and looked out the peephole. Looking at the familiar curly-headed fuck, Eddie opened the door eagerly. The suddenness of the door opening made Richie jump back, clutching the bag in his hand tighter. Eddie looked over his best friend; he looked paler, taller, and had longer and more unkempt hair. His glasses were a little crooked and dirty, and the scruffle of facial hair had become more of a small beard. It wasn't until Eddie looked into Richie's eyes when he saw the pain and fear in his best friend's eyes slowly morph into a little bit eased and relaxed. 

"Hi." Eddie awkwardly waved with one hand as the other clung onto the towel around his waist; he'd continued to hop in the shower after Richie told him he'd hop on the next flight. "Did you bring some extra clothes for me? And-And shoes? I really really can't wear that pile of shit again," He motioned the small pile in the corner containing his blood and dirt-stained clothes and the first two towels he has used. Richie looked over there, still quiet. "Richie?"

Richie snapped his attention back to Eddie, handing him the bag. Walking in, Rich closed the door with one and scratched his head with the other mumbling, "Sorry, I'm still trying to get used to the 'you not being dead' thing." He quietly sat on the bed, looking down as Eddie began to sort through the clothes. A blue t-shirt two sizes to big for him, socks, size 8 tennis shoes, new small blue jeans with the tags still on them from the store, black boxers still in the package. "I'm sorry, but can you tell me again you got yourself in a Motel 6?"

Eddie shook his head, putting on the boxers and then the jeans. "I don't know man, that's the crazy part I was telling you. All I remember is getting spiked in the fucking stomach after saving your ass and then I woke up here. I wish I could tell you more, honestly, but I can't remember anything between those two moments." Eddie put on the long shirt and sat down next to Richie and began to put on the socks and shoes. "You know I'd tell you more if I could, Richie," Richie smiled at this; it was a small smile sure, but it felt like a huge victory to Eddie. _He's beginning to trust me_. "You're the first person I wanted to call first for some strange reason." Eddie placed his small hands on top of Richie's, squeezing it to see if Richie would make say something. Anything. He's never been this quiet, and it started to completely freak out Eddie.

"What about Myra?" Richie finally spoke up, looking down at both of their intertwined hands. He began to rub his thumb against the side of Eddie's, starting from the base of the hand to slowly rising to the tip of the thumb. "Or Bill or Bev or any other person?" 

"Myra probably thinks I'm dead with how much time has passed," Eddie looked down at their hands, "And you're the first Loser I'd wanted to see." He gulped, taking a look at Richie, who sat there in silence. Eddie's never been able to not read Richie, but Richie was showing no emotion towards him. "Do you maybe, want to get out of here? I don't think I'm really checked in to this fucking germ-infested motel. Not that I ever fucking would."

Richie finally looked at him and began to chuckle, "Pennywise really does know how to fuck with you even after death," He teased Eddie by pretending to throw invisible germs at him like snowballs. "Yea, let's go get a beer or something and maybe after we can go back to L.A.? The others are there and they can help us figure...whatever happened out."

"I'd like that, Rich." Eddie smiled. 


	6. We Can Wait One More Night

"What the fuck do you mean all the flights are delayed? _Do you know who I'm talking to? Yeah, It's fucking Richie fucking "Trashmouth" Tozier!-"_

"No luck?" Eddie asked as Richie plumped back beside him at the bar. He leaned in towards Eddie, grabbing his beer and chugged it. Eddie glared, snatching his bottle back from him. "Buy your own, asshole. I don't want the STDs you have.". Eddie grimaced.

"I do not have any STDs...that I know of. Your mom and I never talked about our romantic partners. Well, we might have, but I'm pretty sure nobody can understand Jabba the Hut." Richie smiled, grabbing the bottle once again from his fuming short friend, and proceeded to drink from it once more.

"Hutts can." Eddie grabbed it back, taking a napkin and wiping around the rim of the bottle before taking a sip. He looked at Richie, who was giving him a quizzical stare as if he had spoken an entirely different language just a minute ago. "The Hutts? The slug-creatures in Star Wars? Or any planets mainly speak Huttese, which is the language spoken by the species."

"Okay, fine. I'll stop drinking your beer, the beer I PAID for you to drink, just for you to stop with the fucking dork talk," Richie waved down the bartender, ordered about two rounds of whiskey for the both of them, and turned back to Eddie. "And to answer your question earlier, no luck, compadre. All airlines are closed due to snowstorm that's supposed to come in tonight."

"Snowstorm? What the fuck, isn't it August?" Eddie looked down at his full shot, "How long have I been..." He couldn't even bear to finish the question, but Richie knew what he meant.

"It's been a good amount of time." Richie guzzled down his and waved for the bartender to bring more, "It's Christmas today, you know." 

"Jesus fucking Christ," Eddie rubbed his head, now beginning to drench with sweat. He could feel his pulse speeding up. _Four months...I've been dead for four fucking months._ He began to play with his hands as they waited for the bartender to finish making their drinks. How the hell is he going to explain to Myra. _Sorry honey, I was taking a dirt nap_. 

"Hey," Richie placed his warm, comforting hand on Eddie's back, "You okay?" His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to stare at the man who didn't have the strength to look at him. "What's on ya mind, zombie boy?" Richie teased, trying to get a reaction from Eddie. "Brains on the mind, Zeds? Get it? Zeds? Zombie Eds?" 

"I'm not a fucking zombie, dickwad," Eddie smirked back at Richie, letting him know he was okay. _Somewhat okay, and it's okay to be somewhat okay when Eddie's with Richie. Richie will make the other parts okay._

"I mean you did come back to life. If that's not the definition of a zombie, then I do not know what to tell you, sir," Richie tousled Eddie's hair, making Eddie pull back and shove at him. Richie laughed, clinking Eddie's glass with his and downing the next shot. "You know, we probably should go get a room and stay until this snowstorm blows over and catch the next flight." 

"As long as its not a fucking Motel 6, sure," Eddie joked back, smiling when he saw Richie grinning his child-like grin. 

"One more round before the road?" 

"As long as you pay," Eddie smirked.


	7. You're here now.

"Beautiful!" Eddie opened the door of the hotel room loudly. "Magnifico, Eduardo! This truly must be the best suite in town!" He clasped his hands, giggling as Eddie shook his head in embarrassment.

"Do all your jokes get worse after you drink?" Eddie groaned, showing both he and Richie in the room before he could say more stupid shit. Richie just continued to chuckle as he wobbled over towards the minifridge.

"Speaking of drinks," Richie slurred as he grabbed two small bottles of whiskey out of the refrigerator, smirking at Eddie, "Shall we?" 

"I think we've both had enough," Eddie smiled back as he watched the idiot stumble back onto the bed, lying down with both bottles in his hands. "Come on, hand them over."

"Eduardo, are you sure you aren't a robot that's unable to have fun? It would explain a lot." Richie said, taking the lid off one of the bottles and began to chug the whiskey. "Come on, LIVE A LITTLE!" Eddie chuckled, walking over to his best friend and sitting beside him. 

"Fuck you dude." He pointed his finger in Richie's face. "And you have had enough. We both could really use the rest." He attempted to grab the bottles, but Richie yanked them away from him. "Seriously, Rich, give the bottles to me." 

"One more drink." Richie smiled, handing Eddie the unopened bottle. "One more drink and I'll call it a night." Eddie sighed, twisting the cap and guzzling another down with his best friend.

* * *

Ten minutes after their last round, Richie was out like a light. Eddie sighed from relief as he went to go to the bathroom to freshen up before bed. He tried to find Richie's travel toiletry bag, but couldn't find it. "Fucking disgusting, Richie," Eddie grimaced, grabbing the small complimentary shampoo and conditioner from the hotel's sink. Turning the shower temperature to blazing hot, Eddie hummed to himself and looked in the mirror. Taking off the clothes, he checked out his face and chest. Nothing. No scars. Eddie placed his fingers gently where he could remember the pain; he winced as his fingers met his abdomen. He quickly let go in shock and ran into the shower. _Scrub it away. It didn't happen if I just scrub it away._ Eddie chanted in his head as he continuously scrubbed the soap all on his body. 

Wrapping a towel around himself, he tiptoed back into the room. He panicked when he didn't see Richie where he last had seen him, passed out on the bed. Instead, Richie was now sitting on the bed upright, his back turned against Eddie, worrying him even more. "Richie, I swear to god if you puked on the-" Eddie walked over to see Richie more, but quickly stopped when he realized what he was holding. _My clothes?_

"Jesus, Rich, I told you to throw those away, they're all covered in mud and shit." Eddie took a step back, plugging his nose up. Richie remained silent. "Do you realize how much bacteria is on those? Please, for the love of God, throw it out of this room."

"I saw you die, Eddie." Richie kept his focus on the article he was holding: Eddie's blood-stained shirt. His voice broke as he wiped his tears with his free hand. "I watched as...as that thing impaled you." He finally turned his gaze to Eddie, who also now had tears in his eyes. Richie gave a soft smile, "But you're here now. You're not gone anymore." Eddie quickly went to Richie, clinging to him as Trashmouth cried into his shoulder. 

"I'm not going to go anywhere, Rich. I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry," The guys continued to hug; it wasn't until Richie pulled away when Eddie looked up at him. Eddie stared into Richie's eyes, which were still wet from crying. "Richie?" Eddie could tell there was something Richie wanted to tell him. Because Richie could never lie to Eddie. Nor could Eddie lie to Richie. "What's wrong?"

Richie just smiled, placing his big warm hand on Eddie's chiseled cheek. "Please, please, don't be sorry. I"m happy, I'm so fucking happy you're alive." They continued to stare at each other for what seemed like an eternity, "I just wish..."

"Wish what?"

"I was as brave as you." Eddie's heart skipped a beat as Richie blushed. "I"m serious, Eds. Compare me to you and I'm...I'm a fucking coward who can't handle his own fucking emotions half the time. A coward who uses jokes as a defense mechanism against fear. A trust me, pardner, this ole' cowboy is always fucking terrified," Richie giggled.

"Richie, you are very brave," Eddie smiled up at Richie. "You've always been. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have ever stood up to my mom. Or knifed Henry in the stomach. I also wouldn't have ever thrown that spear at that monster if it wasn't for you."

"But then you would have lived."

"I'm living right now, aren't I, dipshit?" Eddie rolled his eyes jokingly. Richie gulped, blushing from both the number of drinks he's had and from being this close to Eddie. "What?" 

Richie leaned in closer to Eddie, throwing both hands around the man's neck. Eddie blushed, but allowed himself to be kissed by Richie. Richie fucking Tozier. Richie Trashmouth Tozier.


	8. Truth or Dare

_"Truth or Dare, Stan," Bev said, flicking her cigarette ash onto the floor of the clubhouse. Stan looked up from his algebra homework, putting his hand on his cheek while deciding his options. Ben stood beside Beverly, looking around for any damages he could repair to the clubhouse while Bill and Mike sat on the floor. Eddie, sitting next to Stan, waited impatiently for him to hurry up and answer so they can get back to studying. He was also impatiently waiting for Richie to arrive; Eddie knew Richie was always late coming up to the clubhouse, but he was never this late. It was worrying Eddie._

_"Truth," Stanley muttered, going back to the math problem with ease. "You forgot to isolate the variables," He pointed at Eddie's worksheet, then went back to his own paper._

_"Is it true you have a crush on-"_

_"Eddie's mom? Seriously, Stan, I thought you had standards," Richie smiled, climbing down into the clubhouse. Bev and Stanley smiled as Eddie rolled his eyes. "Also you can't hit on my woman, dude," He walked over to Eddie, tousling his hair before crashing onto the hammock. "Seriously guys? This game is for fucking children."_

_"We are fucking children, asshole," Eddie chimed in, putting his homework neatly into his folder and then placing the folder neatly into his backpack._

_"Really?" Richie arched an eyebrow, "Speak for yourself, Eddie Spaghetti, but what you're looking at is a handsome man," He grinned, causing Eddie to roll his eyes again. "I mean, I was man enough for your mother last night."_

_"Shut up, Richie," Eddie groaned, jumping onto the hammock and lying beside Richie. He looked over at the curly-haired boy, noticing the cracks in his glasses. "Your fucking glasses are filthy," He grimaced._

_Richie rolled his eyes, taking his glasses off to clean them with his shirt. "Here," Eddie sighed, handing him a handkerchief. Taking a quick look at the boy, Eddie noticed a bruise around his eye and a still bleeding scratch on his cheek. "Hey, Richie? What happened?"_

_Richie quickly put his glasses back on and shrugged. Not looking at his shorter friend, Richie replied, "Fell off my bike on the way here." He was obviously lying. Eddie could always tell when Richie lied to him, which is probably why Richie rarely ever lied to Eddie. So why lie about this?_

* * *

_"Hey, I should probably head home," Bev said as she put out her last cigarette. Ben followed her out like a lost puppy, and soon after so did Mike and Bill. Stanley, after packing up his homework into his backpack, asked Eddie if he still wanted to study later tonight for the math test on Thursday._

_"No, I'll probably just do it more tomorrow. I think I need a break for tonight," Eddie smiled, waving as Stanley left. Richie was still quiet. Too fucking quiet for Richie Trashmouth Tozier. "Richie? Is everything okay?"_

_"Mhm," Richie hummed, flipping a page from his Superman comic, "Why do you ask Ed's?"_

_"Don't fucking call me that," Eddie sighed, taking the comic out of Richie's hands so he would pay attention to him. Richie looked up, slightly annoyed. "You have a bruise and a scratch on your face. I know for a fucking fact you didn't fall off your bike, so tell me the fucking truth."_

_"I...may or may not have had a physical altercation with...someone," Richie sighed as Eddie was taking gauze out of his fanny pack and dabbing Richie's scratched up cheek. "Seriously, dude it's just a scrap. It's fine." Richie rolled his eyes as Eddie continued. Eddie was close to him. Too close. Richie could feel his chest tighten as he continued to stare at the boy. He could see all the little freckles hidden on his face. His beautiful dark brown eyes as they focused on Richie's scratch and bruise. Thank god Henry mostly kicked the shit out of him; he could hide the welts on his back and the bruisings on his stomach easily with a shirt. But no. No, today, Henry also had to punch Richie in the face. And, of course, Eddie had to have been the one to notice it. Richie pushed away, startling Eddie. "You can chill the fuck out, Eds. I'm not your fucking boyfriend."_

_"Sorry." Eddie backed away, hurt. Fuck, that came out too harsh than what Richie meant for. Richie grabbed for Eddie's wrist, but Eddie pulled it back. "What, Richie?" he spat._

_"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean it-"_

_"It's fine. I have to go." Eddie got up, putting his backpack on and went to climb out of the clubhouse._

_"Eddie wait! Please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it! Please I-"_

_Please don't be mad at me. Eddie, please. You can't fucking be mad at me, okay??_


	9. It Would Have Been a Mistake Anyway

"I'm sorry." Richie broke away first, panting, "Fuck, Eddie. I'm..I'm sorry." He wouldn't even look at Eddie. "I..I didn't mean to," He tried to pull away, but Eddie grabbed his hand just in time.

"It's okay Richie," Eddie could feel his heart beating really fast. "It's okay." He could see Richie relax a little, making Eddie smile. Richie smiled back, continuing to look into his friend's eyes. "I'm the one who should be sorry, Rich."

"What for?" Richie looked at him confused.

"I left you," Eddie looked into Richie's eyes, tears forming in his own. He looked down, not wanting to cry. Richie squeezed Eddie's hand and placed his other hand on his cheek. 

"You're here now." Richie placed his forehead against Ed's, ignoring the clenching in his chest and kissed Eddie's lips once more. This time was softer, filled with comfort and gentleness. Eddie put his hands around Richie, one hand touching his shoulder the other playing with his hair. He didn't care anymore. All he cared about was what was happening now; how Richie was kissing him. The feeling of Richie's soft lips made Eddie's heart melt. Craving more, he deepened the kiss. He heard Richie moan, and the thought that he was giving Richie Tozier some happiness made Eddie feel better than what he's felt in a long fucking time. Richie moved in closer, tangling Eddie in his long legs and pulling him close with them. 

Richie broke off the kiss again, keeping his forehead against Eddie's. He wanted to remember this moment, to remember the way Eddie was looking at him. 

"Don't," Eddie protested, "Please, don't fucking stop kissing me."

Richie licked his lips before kissing Eddie's nose. Then his cheeks. Then his lips. He grabbed Eddie's arms, wanting him to be as close as he can to him. Richie again broke it off, irritating Eddie.

"I'm sorry, but I can't. I don't want it to be like this. I've been drinking a lot tonight, and I want to do _this_ right. Please don't be mad."

"It's okay." Eddie smiled, holding onto Richie's cheek, "Let's just get some rest, okay?"

"Okay." Richie smiled back.

* * *

As sunlight poured into the room from the windows, Eddie woke up with Richie fucking Tozier holding him. His head was snuggled against his shoulder and both of their legs were intertwined. Eddie put his one hand against his aching head as he looked over at the clock on the bedside table; it read 9:45. Eddie groaned softly, not wanting to wake Richie up. He got up quietly, making sure not to wake the heavy sleeper beside him. He tiptoed to the bathroom, turning on the hot water and looking at himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. 

He could still feel the alcohol underlying his breath, making him shiver in disgust. As Eddie went into the shower, he began to scrub away the filth with the hotel soap; continuing to scrub until the soap dissolved away. Eddie was always a morning person; he loved the silence as daylight broke in his home. His home, that he lived with his wife. _Fuck, Myra_. Eddie pressed his forehead against one of the walls of the shower, but it didn't calm him. It only reminded him of last night: of how Richie pressed his forehead against his and how it made him feel. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ Eddie continued to scrub. He didn't want to think about any of that; he just wanted his head to be filled with silence. Quiet. Eddie liked it quiet in the morning. It wasn't until he heard the tv blast full volume in the other room that brought him back to reality.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Eddie groaned, a towel wrapped around his waist as he stormed into the living room. Richie, lying up straight on the bed in the same clothes last night, smiled at him. 

"Watching tv, obviously," Richie replied, pointing at the small television set, "And waiting for you to get out of the shower. Did you leave any hot water for me? You were in there for a fucking eternity," 

"Fuck you, bro," Eddie pointed at him, causing Richie to chuckle. "Did you bring any clothes for you to change into? They fucking reek," Eddie grimaced.

"Of course I did," Richie smirked, "I just thought I'd wear this outfit as much as possible. I think it suits me."

"You're fucking disgusting," Eddie grimaced, "You don't happen to have new clothes for me to wear, do you?" 

"You can borrow one of my t-shirts. I always overpack those," Richie hummed, going into the bathroom. Eddie blushed, thinking about wearing Richie's clothes. _Stop it, that's childish. For fuck's sake, you have a fucking wife, Eddie._

* * *

Eddie put on the jeans from last night since it was the only ones Richie brought that fit him; it wasn't that Richie was heavier, but more so the fact that he was a fucking giant compared to Eddie. Looking around in Richie's bag, Eddie put out a plain white t-shirt and put it on; it was baggy, but Eddie couldn't be picky. It was clean, and that's all that mattered. After making the bed neatly, Eddie plopped himself down and channel surfed for a while. His stomach rumbled, so he managed to find the continental breakfast and picked up some fruit, cereal, and orange juice. When he came back into the room, he saw Richie in just a towel rummaging in his bag for something to wear. Eddie stared at his broad shoulders and hairy chest but looked away once Richie caught him.

"What?" Richie walked over to Eddie, taking an apple and taking a bite out of it. 

"Nothing," Eddie mumbled, sitting back down on the bed, "Can you hurry up and get dressed?" 

"What's the rush?" Richie shrugged, placing the apple on the counter and went back to his rummaging. He finally picked out a white tank top, an orange button-up shirt, and jeans. He also grabbed a pair of black boxers before going back into the bathroom. However, all Eddie could do was think about Richie being shirtless in front of him; how his body was built but also somewhat soft. It was beautiful. Eddie could feel himself getting hard, and he tried hard to get the image out of his head. He just couldn't shake how beautiful Richie fucking Trashmouth Tozier looked.

"Ready?" Richie said, walking into the room.

"Yes. Let's get out of here." Eddie nodded, remembering reality. He was married. To a woman, nonetheless. Eddie Kaspbrak is not gay. He is especially not attracted to his longest and bestest friend, Richie Tozier. 


	10. The Flight

The flight back to L.A. wasn't long, which Eddie was grateful for since he hated flying. Richie got them first-class tickets, even though Eddie insisted it wasn't necessary. _"Coach would have been just fine, Rich." "Coach? Excuse me, Eds, but celebrities do not fly fucking coach."_ "You _are barely a fucking celebrity." "Barely a celebrity is still being a celebrity, asshole."_

Richie put dibs on the window seat, which didn't mind Eddie. He hated heights, and just being on this plane puts him at risk of dying. Again. He neatly folded his hands on his lap, fidgeting with his legs. He kept his seatbelt on, fastened tightly. _"I don't give a fuck if you can take your seatbelt off, I'm not going to, Rich."_ _"Just for a second. I have to go take a piss." "Hold it in, dickwad."_

Richie sighed, trying to maneuver his way out of the aisle. Eddie wouldn't fucking budge, which annoyed Richie. He finally got out and moved his way to the bathroom. Eddie kept fidgeting as the stewardess came around with her drink tray. _"Care for a drink, sir?" "Two rum and cokes please, miss."_

Richie walked his way back to the bathroom, astonished to see Eddie's tray up with two empty glasses on it. "Did you order me one?" Richie joked, holding the two cups and putting the tray up so he could walk back into the aisle. Before sitting down, he asked the stewardess for a rum and coke, and Eddie ordered himself two more. "Didn't know you were paying for the drinks. Make two for me as well, miss."

"Fuck off, I'll pay you back. I just...really hate flying," Eddie kept his eyes closed, trying to keep his breathing steady. Richie sat down next to him, putting his hand on Eddie's knee. Keeping his eyes closed, Eddie put his hand on Richie's, squeezing it every time they felt the turbulence.

"Ed's?" Richie whispered as Eddie opened his eyes, "It's gonna be okay. I promise." Richie gave a sympathetic smile and sipped his drink. 

"Thank you, Richie." Eddie smiled and looked down. "I kinda needed that."

* * *

The flight was only seven hours, Eddie kept telling himself. After downing more drinks, he started to relax a little bit; relaxed enough to finally take his seatbelt off. He looked at Richie snoring soundly, smiling as they were still holding hands. It wasn't until Richie suddenly stirred awake that scared the shit out of Eddie.

"What the fuck!" Eddie jumped as Richie jumped as well.

"What?" Richie said groggily.

"Why the fuck would you jump like that? You scared the fucking shit out of me!" Eddie clenched his chest and tightened his seatbelt. "You're an asshole, Richie."

"I just woke up, chill out," Richie waved his hands up in defeat, "Sorry. Jesus. Fuck me, I guess."

* * *

Four hours into the flight, and both Richie and Eddie have had a good amount of drinks. Richie, however, was used to drinking this much; being a comedian, he was invited to many parties in the same week. Bars at most of them were open, so Richie, of course, drank as much as he could. Eddie, however, was a fucking lightweight.

"You okay?" Richie smiled at Eddie, who was barely awake, "You want some water?" Eddie nodded sloppily. "Had a little too much?" Richie smirked.

"Fuck off." Eddie groaned, keeping his eyes closed.

_"Just try and not throw up." "Seriously, fuck off, Richie." "I'm serious. The stewardesses have enough on their plate to deal with your lightweight ass." "Shut. Up."_

* * *

With only one hour left of the flight, Eddie groggily woke up. He remembered hearing Richie stir and leave the aisle, mumbling something about having to go to the bathroom. Eddie looked over and saw Richie was still gone. The light from his phone kept blinking and being curious, Eddie took a peek at Richie's phone. Eddie rolled his eyes, seeing Richie didn't have any passcode on his phone. However, Eddie continued to look through the notifications.

Four messages from his manager, asking where the hell he has been and the need to discuss his new special. 

_'Richie, I'm not going to keep calling if you aren't going to answer. Message me back to discuss that new special deal Netlflix wants to make. Don't fuck this up for us.'_

_'Rich, buddy, where the hell are you? The producers want to meet with you this week or the deal's off. This is a big deal for us. Call me'_

_'Richie if you don't call me back, we WILL lose this deal.'_

_'I swear to god if you're off the wagon again, I'm going to fucking quit Rich.'_

"Off the wagon?" Eddie furrowed his eyebrows as he continued to search through the phone. Bev was the next one with the most notifications; even though most were missed calls, there were at least two text messages.

_"Richie please call me. Your manager came by yesterday, so I know you aren't with him. I covered for you, but if you don't get back to me, I am telling the other Losers."_

_"Richie, please, I'm worried about you. After Eddie, I don't want to lose you, too."_

Why the fuck hasn't Richie answered anybody? Eddie thought to himself as he continued searching. He knew it was wrong, but Richie has been distant since he came to pick him up. Eddie understood why; if it was Richie who died and suddenly called him months later, Eddie probably would have never picked him up. _I'd have a fucking heart attack_. There was another text message, a number without a contact. It was just one message, but it still made Eddie's heart sank.

_"I had a nice time catching up with you. We should definitely meet up again when I'm in town again. Next time I'll pay for the hotel haha ;)- Connor"_

"Who the fuck is Connor?!?" Eddie frowned, rereading the message over and over again. I mean, it's completely fine if Richie was seeing someone since Eddie and he wasn't and never would date. Eddie's married. However, it didn't mean it hurt Eddie. It stung Eddie, but he couldn't really exactly figure out why. He just knew that Richie shouldn't be with fucking Connor. 

"Why do you have my phone?" Richie arched his eyebrow, standing in the aisle and crossing his arms. 

"The..the notification light kept fucking bugging me," Eddie said, giving his phone back to him. Richie continued to look at Eddie, but deciding not to press further, he awkwardly got back into his seat. "You really should have had your phone on airplane mode, too," Eddie said coldly. 

"Okay?" Richie sighed, putting his phone on airplane mode and looked back at Eddie, "What's wrong?" Eddie pretended not to hear him, but that didn't stop Richie. He started to poke at Eds as if they were twelve years old again. "Dude come on, tell me what's up. Besides us. Get it? We're up because we're on an airplane. Eds? Eddie. Eduardo."

"Why haven't you told Bev that I'm alive?" Eddie turned around suddenly, making Richie jump a little. "Or any of the Losers for that matter? Seriously, Richie, like what the fuck?" They both knew that wasn't the main issue, but Eddie wouldn't budge and Richie knew that. He would just have to wait to fix it. Richie always wanted to fix problems with Eddie right away, but Eddie was like a complicated Rubix Cube. Or a puzzle that only had some pieces missing. He'll eventually know the issue; Eddie couldn't keep anything from Richie for very long. Richie would just have to give it time.

"I.." Richie tried to answer, but he knew he couldn't. Not in public, at least. "I can't tell you here. Okay?" He gestured to the people around him, hoping Eddie would understand.

"Fine." Eddie huffed, getting up. "I'm going to the bathroom." As soon as he left, Richie turned off his phone and laid his head against his hand. He ordered some more drinks and drank them before Eddie came back. He hated it when he upset Eddie, but this time he wasn't sure what he did wrong. When they were kids, it was mostly because of Richie's fat jokes about Eddie's mom or one-liners about how much of a virgin his friend was. There was only really one time he made Eddie really upset and he didn't know why, and to this day he still doesn't know. But he knew how to fix it, or somewhat fix it enough for them to continue being friends again.


	11. Sick Day

_"Have you seen Richie today, Stanley?" Eddie said to his friend as they biked toward the Quarry. It's been a few days since he's seen Richie and it was starting to worry Eddie. Ever since they had that little spat, Richie hasn't even tried to call Eddie's house or even tap on his window at night (like what he did when they usually got into their little fights)._

_"No, I haven't. I called his house, though. His mom says he's been really sick." Stanley said as they stopped their bikes by the bridge. "I'm sure he'll be his annoying self soon."_

_"Maybe we should all go and pay a visit?" Eddie said as they made their way to Beverly and Bill. Mike couldn't come today because he had to help with his grandfather's farm and Ben was visiting family from out of town for the week. Richie was the only Loser without an excuse, Eddie thought._

_"Pay who a visit?" Bev said, smoking a cigarette and leaning against a rock. She used her other hand to brush her fiery red hair, smiling at Stanley and Eddie as they came down._

_"Richie. He's been sick for a few days now." Eddie frowned, sitting next to Bill underneath a tree. The shade was nice to get away from the mid-August heat._

_"Y-yeah his m-m-mom t-t-told me ab-bout how he w-wa-wasn't feeling w-we-well." Bill stammered as he laid against the tree. Bev puffed her cigarette in deep thought._

_"Why don't we go now?" Bev suggested as the boys looked at her, "It's not like we have anything better to do," She shrugged as she ran back up to the trail. Eddie followed her, and the others came after him._

* * *

_"Is there anything else I can get for you before I go out sweetie?" Maggie Tozier rang out from downstairs. She hummed quietly as she gathered her purse and keys. "I can pick up some chicken noodle soup for you. Would you like that honey?"_

_"Sure mom," Richie coughed out. He honestly didn't care if she brought anything home; he just wanted to be alone. "What time will you be back?" He managed to call out from his room._

_"In a few hours, sweetie! I have to pick up some groceries and I have a hair appointment I'm about to be late too. I'll see you soon as I get home. Make sure you take the medicine the doctor prescribed in an hour! I'll be back to tend to you later. I love you!"_

_"Love you too, Mom."_

_And with that, Maggie was out of the door. Richie sighed with relief for a moment and then felt the pain in his stomach. Richie has always loved his mother, but sometimes she could be a bit much. But, thank God she didn't tell his friends or his Dad about what really happened. How the minor cold he got covered up the beat down Henry and his gang gave him when he returned to the arcade. The only prove anyone could notice directly was the bruise on his eye. 'What the hell happened, Richie??' 'Oh, Wentworth, you know how boys are. They just got a little too rough, is all.'_ _His mother winked at him as if this secret bonded them for life. It made Richie want to gag._

_Richie managed to get up, walking slowly to the bathroom. Checking himself in the mirror, he saw his black eye was still visible and gross-looking. He winced taking his shirt off, looking at the welts and bruises left by the assholes at the arcade. He knew he shouldn't have talked back to them, but Richie the Trashmouth never knows when to shut the fuck up._

_"Beep fucking Beep Richie," He grunted at himself in the mirror. 'We told you faggots aren't allowed in here!' 'Oh? Then how come you homos are?' "Beep fucking beep!" He yelled, punching the mirror and breaking it. Glass shattered into the sink and around the ground, his hand was covered in blood and the mirror was definitely fucking broken. "God damn it!" He groaned as he walked painfully downstairs. That's when he heard it. The fucking knock at the door._

* * *

_"You think he's gonna answer?" Eddie played with his hands as Bev continued to pound on the door._

_"Of course he will, why wouldn't he?" Stanley gave Eddie a weird look._

_"Oh G-God, are y-you g-g-guys in a f-f-fight ag-gain?" Bill rolled his eyes. Eddie shook his head, but honestly? He wasn't so sure. This is the longest he hasn't heard from Richie, and despite him being annoying as fuck, Eddie was nervous. Bev pounded on the door once more, and in a matter of seconds, the door sprung open. Richie, wrapped in a blanket, looked down as he stood in the doorway. "H-Hey R-Richie."_

_"What's up guys?" Richie managed to choke out. He sniffled and wiped his nose with his hand, causing Eddie to reach in his fanny pack and douse his hands with hand sanitizer._

_"We wanted to see how you were doing, hon," Bev smiled sympathetically, "You feeling any better?" Richie nodded, rubbing his head with his hand. "Is there anything-um Richie?" Bev's voice changed from motherly to almost cold-like. This caused Richie to snap his head up, and both Stanley and Eddie gasped at the black eye. "Who the fuck did that to you?" Bev clenched her fists, ready to kick some ass._

_"I did it to myself. My blind ass walked into a stupid pole again," Richie joked, hating tension. Richie always hated uneasiness; it made him feel like it was his fault. Maybe it was his fault._

_"Was it fucking Bowers?" Eddie's voice rang out, causing Richie's heart to clench up. 'Eddie's seeing you as the coward you are.' "I swear the fuck I"m going to-"_

_"Please, guys. It's fine." Richie pleaded. If his friends went after Bowers, Henry might tell them how much of a fairy their friend is. "Please, please don't do anything."_

_"W-w-we can't let him g-g-get aw-away with this, R-Richie," Bill growled. Out of all his friends, Bill was the most protective of Richie. Mainly because Richie rarely got hurt; Bill knew when he did get hurt, that it was fucking serious._

_"Jesus Christ, I can handle myself! I'm not a fucking baby!" Richie rubbed his neck, feeling the ache of his throat. Man, this cold really does fucking suck._

_"Guys, let's all just calm down." Bev put her hands up in defeat. She knows she can't really change Richie's mind. Not now, at least. "Will you be able to meet us at the clubhouse tomorrow?" Richie nodded. "Good. We'll discuss this matter then. Together. And don't think about not showing up either. I WILL come to your house." She pointed her finger at Richie, who mumbled 'yes ma'am' as a response. She nodded and turned around. "Feel better, Richie. Let's go boys." She pushed Stanley and Bill before they could protest and talk about what the hell they were going to do about Bowers. Richie sighed, but stopped when he realized he still wasn't alone. Eddie stood there, and wouldn't budge._

_"What?"_

_"Don't fucking what me, I'm coming in."_

* * *

_Eddie ordered Richie back into bed, and Richie only complied because his throat was too sore to talk. He kept the blanket wrapped around him, grateful none of the Losers saw the welts on his stomach. Eddie came in fifteen minutes later, with a tray that held a bowl of hot soup, a glass of Sierra Mist, and some pills. Eddie droned about what each pill did, but Richie didn't really care._

_"Richie?" Eddie said, snapping the curly-headed boy out of his daze, "Is that all they did?" He referred to his black eye. Richie sighed, knowing it was pointless to lie to Eddie. He'd always see through the bullshit. "And don't bullshit me either," Eddie said as if on cue._

_"No." Richie's voice was hoarse. He really wished Eddie wouldn't press any further, but he was too tired to put up a fight. And Eddie, like always, pressed on._

_"Where else?"_

_"What?"_

_"Where else did they hit you, dumbass," Eddie rolled his eyes. Richie groaned, telling Eddie to move the tray so he could get up. He got up, pushing the blanket off him to show his pale and bruised torso. Eddie ran silent, something he rarely ever did. Some bruises looked like they were about to heal, but others were fresh. "When?"_

_"Last week."_

_"And?"_

_"Yesterday," Richie hung his head in shame. Eddie is the last person he'd want to see him like this. He wanted to cry, but only fairies fucking cry. Richie is not a fucking fairy. Eddie touched at his skin, pulling back as Richie hissed in pain. "Sorry," Eddie said while he pulled back, "God, Richie, I'm sorry."_

_"Please don't tell the others." Richie looked at his friend, tears in his eyes. Eddie nodded willfully, wiping a tear off of his best friend's cheek. "Thanks. Jeez, I guess you're not mad at me anymore, are you?" Richie chuckled, stopping as it hurt to laugh._

_"I've never been mad at you. Annoyed? Yes. Mad? Never." Eddie smirked, causing Richie to smile. "Now, I have some cream to put on those bruises to help them heal. They're in my second fanny pack. Also, before I do this, you need to put this hand sanitizer on. I saw you fucking wipe your nose with your hand. You know that's fucking disgusting, right?"_

* * *

_Maggie Tozier tiptoed upstairs to Richie's room, a tray with a bowl of chicken noodle soup on it. As she creaked the door open, she saw her angel sound asleep, his glasses on the bedside table, and a shorter boy laying beside him sound asleep as well. The boy was snuggled up to Richie, and Richie held on to the boy with both his arms tightly. Maggie smiled softly, closing the door to let the two poor tired boys to get some rest._


	12. I Still Dream About You Dying Sometimes.

Even though Eddie did not know where the fuck he was going, he walked briskly ahead of Richie as soon as they were let out of the plane. He was shorter than Eddie, but he sure as hell could walk faster than the fucking giant; he should be able to since he did do track in high school. It was one of his minor acts of rebellion against his mother. _"You'll get hurt, Eddie Bear! Think about what that'll do to your poor mother!"_

"Eddie, can you wait the fuck up?" Richie panted. Maybe smoking since he was fifteen wasn't such a good idea. He finally caught up to Eddie and grabbed his shorter friend's shoulder. "Can you please talk to me?" Eddie turned around, waiting for Richie to speak. But Richie didn't know what the fuck to say (mainly because he didn't know what the fuck he did). "Why are you mad at me?" He said bluntly, sick of the bullshit games Eddie played when he was mad at Richie. "I know it's not just about Bev and the Losers."

"You don't know anything about me," Eddie growled and was going to continue his rant before being interrupted.

"Bullshit. We both know that's bullshit." Richie grabbed Eddie's arm before his shorter friend could squirm away, "I want to know what the hell I did." His voice broke. He decided to let go of Eddie because of the increasing number of people who began to stare. _"Mommy! I think that's Richie Tozier!"_ "What did I do Eddie?" 

"I.." Eddie didn't know what to say. He had a fucking wife, and the feeling of betrayal that Richie was hooking up with other people was just downright ridiculous. "I'm not mad at you, Rich." His voice was soft; he continued to stare at his friend with his beautiful brown eyes. God damn, was Richie a sucker for those brown eyes. Eddie touched his arm gently, giving Richie a squeeze to send him back into reality. "I swear I'm not mad at you." 

_No. He can't just give me that look and make everything better. I want to talk this out._

"Okay, so what was with that temper tantrum on the plane?" Richie pulled back, crossing his arms. "I should be mad at you. You looked through my phone!" Eddie played with his hands; he didn't want to admit it, but he liked Richie. _It's selfish to want him to myself. You can't even decide how you fucking feel._ "Eddie?" Richie snapped his fingers in the shorter guy's face.

"Can we talk somewhere in private? Before we meet the others?" Eddie blurted out, surprising Richie. "I just...we both need to discuss things with each other."

"Sure." Richie nodded, putting his hands in his pockets. "We can get a hotel room for just the night, but we can leave after we talk. That way I won't be bombarded with the paparazzi."

"Only if you talk to Bev. She's really worried about you." Eddie smiled softly as he walked beside Richie towards a cab.

* * *

The car ride was mostly silent, with the exception of Richie's tapping on the window and bouncing his leg. Eddie rolled his eyes, staring out at the city; it was beautiful, sure, but it was most certainly not Eddie's scene. Then again, he did say the same thing about New York City, which he has lived there for over ten years. He glanced over at Richie, who had his head buried into his phone, texting. Probably his manager. Hopefully Beverly. _Maybe Connor._ The thought made Eddie physically sick, but there wasn't anything he could do. Richie wasn't his. _Richie will never be yours, Eddie bear. Boys are filled with nasty germs._ Eddie twiddled his thumbs, looking down. 

The car came to a sudden stop; Eddie looked up and saw the Crowne Plaza sign. Richie thanked the man, handing him the cash necessary to pay the fare and gave him a tip. Eddie got out and waited patiently, still playing with his hands. Richie waved to the taxi driver as the car sped off, then turned to the entrance of the hotel. Without saying anything, he walked in as Eddie followed him behind. 

The room was 312. One bed, a minifridge, and a ledge that peered over the city. There were pictures on the wall, but Eddie didn't really pay much mind to them. He just kept playing with his hands as he sat down on the bed, watching Richie close the door and lean against the wall. Neither of them wanted to speak first, so the tense silence lingered for awhile.

"I didn't tell anyone because," Richie was the first to break the quietness, choking on his words as he scrambled to get them out, "Because a part of me didn't think it was real. Ever since Derry I.... _we_ all haven't been the same. I guess I got the worse of it though," He pushed his thick curls back and began to play with his glasses. 

"I'm sorry," Eddie interjected, looking down, "I'm so so fucking sorry Rich."

"I watched you _die,_ Eddie. I fucking...I fucking had your blood splattered on my shirt and glasses. I watched as he threw you like you..you were _nothing_." _You are something to me, Eds._ "It was as if It wanted to give me the last fuck you before It died," Richie chuckled as tears poured out. "It really fucking hated me the most, I guess." His knees got weak, and Richie gave out. He sat on the hotel floor, holding his knees into his chest. He couldn't fucking breathe. Eddie tried to say something, but he just felt weak. Small. _I'm a disease. A fucking disease. I shouldn't have come back._

"I still fucking dream about it, Eddie. You're there one minute, and then swept away from me the next! It's like...I'm fucking helpless! Bev still has Ben. Mike has Bill. And what do I _have?_ One best friend, dead, because he couldn't face that fucking clown. And another best friend, who fucking died from that monster. You and Stanley were the only ones who really _got_ me, and you both fucking left!"

"Rich..."

"You know what sucks about it? Is that there isn't like a therapist or anyone I can go to sort through it all out. 'Oh yeah, Doc, me and my buddies killed a killer clown from outer space and I watched the only person I ever loved die in my arms. Oh, and hey, he's alive now!'" Richie didn't really hear what he was saying anymore; he just needed to get it all out of his chest. Eddie blinked, still replaying the _'only person I ever loved,'_ in his head over and over. He wasn't even paying attention to Richie's ramblings anymore, instead, he just watched the beautiful man. The way his eyes sparkled, how his shoulders were arched perfectly, and how his bed-headed hair looked stunning. For the first time in a long time, he felt courage build up in his chest; he walked over to Richie, who was sitting down with his head buried in his hands-caressing his face with one hand, he planted a kiss softly on the weeping man. 

"I'm not going anywhere," Eddie said in a lower voice and continued to kiss him. Richie and Eddie both stood up in sync, keeping their lips locked and their hands all over each other. They both inched for the bed, feeling the uncertainty. This was uncharted territory, but knowing they were in this together made the unknown a little less scary. It was Richie and Eddie, against the world. R+E. For as long as they lived. 


	13. First Times

Eddie didn't know how to do any of this; his cheeks felt hot from the embarrassment. He wasn't very experienced at all, for that matter. He's only been with three women in his life. And one guy. His face was flushed as Richie kissed his neck gently, his huge hands feeling every inch of Eddie's body. It made him want to squeal-to thrust his groin against Richie's thigh. Every time Richie moaned made the desire to thrust stronger; any sound Richie made wanted Eddie harder. For the first time ever, Eddie's mind was blank. The only thing on his mind was Richie: to kiss him, to hold him down and just _love_ him. Again, Eddie's only been with four people in his life, but none have made him feel like Richie is making him feel right now.

The first one was after Eddie moved away from Derry. His mother wanted to protect him from the Losers, and so she had her boss transfer her to Kenosha Wisconsin. She claimed it was to be closer to family, but deep down they both knew she wanted to get rid of his friends. Without his friends, Eddie would become her little Eddie-Bear again. _"Promise you'll write to me every day, Eds. Please?" "Only if you stop calling me that dumb fucking nickname."_

Her name was Elizabeth. She was a few months older than Eddie; they were both in the same grade, sharing science class together. She had black, curly hair and her cheeks were covered in freckles. She wore thick glasses, constantly having tape on them because she would accidentally break them so much. She was the first person to welcome Eddie to Kenosha, making him laugh at her annoying jokes. Soon enough, he didn't miss Derry as much anymore because he usually spent most of his free time with Elizabeth. 

When prom rolled around, Elizabeth thought it would be nice if they went together. She also thought it would be hysterical if _he_ wore the dress and _she_ wore the tuxedo. Eddie quickly dismissed that thought but accepted the offer to go to prom together. He just didn't realize the expectations and rules he had to follow after prom. That he was encouraged-no, _required-_ to get a hotel room. Even if the night didn't end in sex, he had to make this the most romantic night of her life. Or so that's what everyone around him told him.

Sex with Elizabeth was nice. She had a nice figure; small boobs, a curvy waist, and a small, but perky, ass. She made him feel almost complete. _Almost_. Eddie was still missing something. It was like a little piece of his heart was still in Derry. He just couldn't fucking remember what was in the town that made him feel so..... _incomplete._

The only time he had sex with Elizabeth was on prom night; they didn't talk to each other for a week after, and when they did, he found out she began dating a college guy named Matt. Eddie didn't really care that much though because he didn't like the way sex with her made him feel. They remained somewhat friends after, and are even still Facebook friends. From what she posted, Eddie saw she married Matt and even had two children, with a third one on the way. He was kind of glad it didn't work out between them because she just felt like a cheap copy of the things he missed in Derry. 

When Eddie turned eighteen and went to New York University, NYU for short, he met Ana-she was a tall, skinny blonde who always kept her hair tight and neat in a ponytail. She wore clean cardigan sweaters and black miniskirts and was always focused on her school work. Having similar classes such as Accounting 101 and Intro to Business, both Eddie and Ana ran into the same friend circle. Her intelligent was the main thing that attracted Eddie, but they had a lot in common- the competitiveness for excellent grades, the lack of desire to go out and party, and the concern about physical health. She was the one who made the first move when they were both studying in her dorm room. Her roommate was out of town for the weekend and Ana suggested to study for the exam coming up next week; the next thing Eddie knew was her skirt and his pants were on the floor. Afterward, Eddie went back to his dorm and showered. The affair between the two only lasted for a semester, and they ended because Ana stopped texting him to come over. Eddie missed the routine, but only because he was liked routines. He left their friend circle because it was obvious Ana tried to make him jealous by daunting guys in front of him, getting angry when Eddie showed very little emotion.

The last girl was the _only girl_ meant for Eddie: Myra. She was everything Eddie wanted; comfort and security. He wasn't pressured to kiss her or hold her hand in public; she rarely ever begged for sex. She just wanted to care for Eddie. Overbear him with her love. She would tell him what to wear, what business trips that he was allowed to take- all for his safety, of course. After his mother's death, Eddie knew he had to marry this girl or else all security would be lost. _Oh, Eddie-Bear! Of course, I'll marry you!_

The proposal wasn't the most romantic gesture-Myra constantly hinted, no _whined,_ about it every day until he asked her to marry him. They were already living together, so Eddie didn't care what a piece of paper had to say. But it mattered to Myra, so it mattered to Eddie. 

It wasn't until after Mike called that Eddie felt it again; the feeling of something missing in his life. He didn't know what it was, all he knew was he needed a _drink_ before driving up to Derry. He ignored Myra's and his boss's phone calls as he headed into the first bar he saw. It was a sketchy dive bar-the lights dimmed low, with a rustic theme to it. _A filthy theme_. Eddie grimaced as he walked his way to the bar and ordered himself a bourbon. He drummed his fingers against the wooden countertop impatiently watching the bartender. He was tall with broad shoulders, his long chestnut hair tied up in a short ponytail. He smiled at Eddie as he placed the drink in front of him. _"Rough day?" "You don't know the fucking half of it_." 

For some reason, the bartender was amused by Eddie's ramblings about germs and his rants about how many health codes the bar was violating. The next minute and a few drinks later, Eddie laid awake in a stranger's bed, being held in the arms by a strange man. His name was Cody, or Charles, or something. It didn't matter. The only thought that kept provoking his mind was _I cheated on Myra_. It played in his head like a broken record. _I cheated on Myra. I cheated on Myra. I miss Richie_. Eddie sprang up from the bed in a panic, causing the young man to stir. He asked if Eddie was alright, but the shorter brunette wasn't paying attention. He kept seeing the same kid in his head- the one with the thick glasses that magnified his beautiful brown eyes, his curly black hair, and his smile- _God his smile_. Eddie quickly got his clothes and left. In the cab, he searched the name 'Richie Tozier' with a lot of information popping up. He clicked on the title 'Richie Trashmouth Tozier Bombs Latest Performance' and watched it in awe.

_"My girlfriend caught me masturbating to her friend's facebook page-"_

* * *

Eddie fucking Kaspbrak was sprawled underneath him, whining as Richie moved his hands at the base of his hips. Richie felt his small hands reach for his belt, unbuckling it ever so slowly. He wanted him. _Eddie_ wanted him. He let the shorter man push him off him and straddle him, watching in awe as he took off his shirt. Richie has seen Eddie shirtless before, but this was different. They weren't swimming down at the Quarry together with their friends, they were about to have sex. Richie could see the insecurity in Eddie's eyes; he knew Eddie rarely ever did these things. Richie did. Much of the celebrity gossip about Richie was how much the comedian slept around. I mean, he even admits it in his standup; even if some of the stories were false (like Richie having a girlfriend), they were based on some truths. Richie slept with producers, directors, and even some actors. Hell, he used to fuck drug dealers to get free shit. He was an easy booty call; mostly because sex really didn't matter to him. Until now.

Richie will always remember the first time he started taking Vicodin. He was seventeen and had just come out to his parents; Maggie took it well, but Wentworth not so much. He was kicked out on the street with just one bag that had all of his belongings. Maggie begged Wentworth to let Richie stay, but Richie fucking Tozier is not a charity case. He remembered walking past Bill's old house, then Stanley's, then Eddie's. _They all moved on without you, Richie_. A voice deep down called to him as he raced to the bus stop and never looked back. He wound up in a bar, with a few of the older men staring at him for an uncomfortable amount of time. But Richie couldn't be picky. He needed a place to sleep, and when the mid-forty-year-old took him back to his hotel room, Richie just tried to remember this was all temporary. He remembered in the middle of the night snooping in the man's bag, taking a prescription bottle full of pills and cash. He put the cash in his pocket and took one of the pills before stuffing it into his backpack.

* * *

Eddie was different, though. Eddie needed Richie. He needed Richie to touch _him_. _God, I am in love with this little neat freak_. They were both naked, both observing the other's bodies like it was a masterpiece. Richie trailed his fingers down Eddie's torso to the tip of his hard cock. Eddie let a soft moan as Richie began to stroke.

"W-Wait." Eddie managed to croak out as Richie stopped during mid-stroke, "You don't happen to have like...protection?"

"There should be some condoms and lube in my hygiene bag," Richie panted, watching Eddie briskly walk over to Richie's bag and handing it to him. Richie pulled out one condom and the bottle of lube, setting them on the bedside table. He laughed as Eddie stumbled his way back onto the bed, then back onto Richie. For a moment, they both just stared into each other's eyes. Eddie placed a kiss on Richie, who in return put his hands against his cheeks. Their cocks grinded against each other as Eddie moved up to continue to kiss Rich, each movement made his twitch. The way Richie put his hand around Eddie's cock made him moan loudly, the way Richie squeezed his ass made him blush. Eddie got off of Richie, lying beside him and still kissing him as the taller man reached for the bottle of lube. They both looked at each other, unsure of what to do next. 

"I normally top," Richie laughed at the awkwardness, "But I'm versatile. We can do whatever you want to do." Eddie nodded, debating his options. He's only been with one other guy, and he topped. Eddie didn't really like change-especially if it's sudden. 

"I'll top," His voice was quiet, he felt weird saying it. The first times are always awkward, though. Aren't they? But he's with Richie. Richie made things feel safe. He made filthy things feel clean.


	14. How It Began to Unravel (1)

_Beverly was the first of the Losers who left; the redhead kept pacing around the clubhouse, unsure how to say it. Bill and Stanley were reading comic books, Mike was swinging on the swing, Ben was fixing a damaged pillar Richie broke, and Richie and Eddie were bickering as usual. She smiled softly, thinking about how she could never leave her boys. The smile faded quickly, putting the cigarette to her lips as reality set in. She had to get out of this place, away from her deadbeat father. She inhaled. It's not like she would forget her friends, right? Another inhale._

_"Fuck off, Richie!" Eddie rolled his eyes, punching Rich in the arm, "That is SO not funny! Do you know-What the fuck are you laughing at Stanley?!?"_

_"He's laughing because you're being ridiculous!" Richie protested, "All I asked was how much did she make in that Star Wars movie!"_

_"You called my mother Jabba the Hutt, asshole!" Eddie shouted. Bill let out a small chuckle, quickly shutting up after Eddie glared at him. Bev smiled. As much as they fought, she knew Richie and Eddie cared about each other the most. It was difficult to read in between the lines of their bickering, but Bev knew. All the Losers knew. They had a special bond._

_"Boys," Bev cleared her throat, "I have an announcement to make," Ben stopped hammering, looking at Bev. God, she was so beautiful. "As summer is rolling around, I decided it's now or never to get this off my chest." She paused to look at Bill, "I'm moving in with my Aunt in Chicago." It was so silent that you could hear a pin drop. Bev stood there awkwardly, looking towards Bill to say something._

_"When will you be back?" Ben said, oblivious. Or perhaps in denial. "You are coming back right, Beverly?" She looked down, shaking her head. Ben gulped._

_"She says I can always come back and visit. It's not like I'm ever going to forget you bozos," Bev tried to cheer everyone up, but there wasn't much to be done. The Losers Club was unraveling. They all felt it._

_"W-W-When?" Bill asked, "W-w-When do y-yo-you leave?"_

_"After the school year." Bev felt a tear sting her cheek, wiping it away quickly. Ben walked over to her, hugging her. So did Bill. And Stanley, and Mike, and Richie, and Eddie. "I'm going to miss you guys. You were the only good things in Derry." She chuckled, hugging them all._

_She left on the last day of school, after saying goodbye to each of them individually. She hugged Stanley, telling him that he was braver than he thought. Hugging Mike, she told him she always admired his loyalty and to continue to protect his friends. She hugged Richie, who kept making jokes about taking him with her. She went along with it until Richie actually tried to pack himself into her suitcase. Hugging Eddie, she kissed him on the cheek and told him to always be true to who he was. She hugged Ben, telling him he'll always be the new kid on the block to her. He chuckled at their inside joke and hugged her a second time, this time longer. "I'll miss you." He whispered in her ear._

_She hugged Bill last, hoping he'd say something to her. He didn't._

* * *

Ben _was the second Loser to get out of Derry; he applied and got accepted into Williamsburg High School for Architecture and Design. He left before freshman year, promising to come back and visit. Like Beverly, he didn't. 'The Loser Club was shrinking, slowly but surely.' Richie thought to himself, skipping rocks on the lake at the Quarry. With one hand, he threw the rock into the lake and in the other, he held his broken glasses. Richie always came down here alone in the fall to watch the leaves change and think. Richie thought a lot during freshman year-mostly about what Henry and Connor called him. How he had to look down in the boys' locker room during gym class, changed in the bathroom stall instead of in front of everyone. He thought about how these senior boys pushed him hard into the ground that day, cracking his glasses in two. He skipped another rock. Why couldn't he be lucky like Beverly or Ben? "This place is a fucking nightmare," He whispered to himself as he grabbed another rock and skipped it._

_"Hey, bitch-face," Eddie walked over with his bike, parking it neatly in the gravel. He let his hair grow out this summer for a new change but was debating on getting a haircut because his bangs kept getting in his fucking eyes. "What're you up to?" He sat beside Richie, grabbing a rock and attempted to skip it across the lake. "Fuck," He said as it plopped in the water._

_"Waiting for your mother," Richie joked, "She's never been this late. I'm started to get worried, Eds."_

_"First off, don't fucking call me that. Secondly, fuck off," Eddie huffed, trying to skip a rock again. "I was passing by the arcade today and saw what those kids did." Richie looked up at the kid, nervous about what he was gonna say next. Did he hear them call him a faggot? Or them writing 'Homo' on his face with a permanent marker? Richie touched his forehead, adjusting his bangs to try and hide the writing._

_"Oh?" Richie said quietly, waiting for the boy to respond. When he didn't, Richie asked, "Why didn't you fucking help?"_

_"Yeah, like I'm going to stop fucking football players. I'd get killed before I could do anything," Eddie scoffed, making Richie smile, "I'm sorry I didn't help. Are you okay?" The boy bit his lip, looking at Richie._

_"I'm used to it," Richie shrugged, throwing a rock into the lake, watching it skip five times. Eddie tried to do the same, but it plopped in the water again. "How can you suck at something so simple like skipping rocks?" He teased._

_"Fuck you," Eddie smiled. There was a pause in the boys' conversation as Richie tried to teach Eddie how to skip rocks._

_"I wish I was as lucky as Beverly and Ben," Richie bluntly said, fumbling with his broken glasses, "I'd do anything to get the fuck out of Derry."_

_"Um, not without me you're not," Eddie smiled as Richie chuckled, "I'm serious. The first minute we're able to escape, let's go. You and me."_

_"We'd kill each other," Richie smirked as Eddie giggled. "I don't know if your mom would let you leave. You, sir, will forever be her prisoner." Richie touched his cracked lip as he felt the wound open; he wiped the blood smeared on his fingers against his pants._

_"Can I?" Eddie motioned at his backpack, grabbing his first aid. Richie nodded, making a comment about how he's so proud of him for getting rid of that God-awful fanny pack. "I didn't use it for fashion. I used it for its usefulness, asshole. Now hold still." He dabbed a wet cloth with water from his water bottle and put it on Richie's lips._

_"How much," Richie mumbled, "How much did you see?" He was referring to the incident._

_"Too much. I should have intervened. I'm so fucking sorry, Richie. They just...they scares me," Eddie pushed Richie's bangs back to view the writing, "I have another cloth, but you're going to have to scrub really hard to get it all off."_

_"I think that's the point," Richie said coldly, pushing his bangs back. "And it's okay, Eddie. I understand." Except he didn't. If anybody pushed him, Richie would go fucking ballistic._

_"Look who it is, fellas," A booming voice shouted from the trail. Three boys, all tall and wearing letterman jackets. The leader, the one who suggested writing on Richie's forehead, was a broad brunette. There was another boy who trailed behind, a familiar blonde. Connor fucking Bowers. "It's homo and his boyfriend!" The other boys chuckled, except for Connor. Richie clenched his fists while Eddie looked down. "You know there's a rule in Derry. No fags allowed," The brunette chuckled as the others laughed with him._

_"Then why are you here?" Richie snapped, "Like you said, 'no fags allowed.'"_

_"The fuck did you say, fairy?" He spat, walking over to Richie. Eddie backed up closer to the lake, looking down. He did not want to be here. 'I wanna go home. I wanna go home,' he kept thinking. Richie kept looking at Connor, who stayed in the shadows of the bullies. Richie decided to stupidly keep his ground._

_"You heard me." Richie pushed the kid, which only enraged the bully even more._

_"Grab him." He barked the order to the other two kids. Connor stayed back, keeping his hands in his pockets and kept looking back at the trail._

_"Woah, I'm sure Richie didn't mean anything by it." Eddie interrupted, pulling at Richie's sleeve to back up with him. 'Quit being a fucking hero, Richie,' he wanted to yell. "We were just leaving anyway, okay?" Eddie kept tugging on the sleeve. 'For fuck's sake, Richie.' "Come on, Richie," He whispered to the brave kid._

_"Get out of the fucking way, shrimp," He pushed Eddie down on the ground harshly. Before he could do anything else, Richie got in between him and Eddie. He punched the brunette in the face, wincing and shaking his hurt hand. The other two kids grabbed Richie's arms, holding them tightly as the brunette punched him in the gut. They kept hitting Richie until he stopped fighting against them. They all chuckled as they lifted the curly-haired kid up and threw him in the lake. The bullies rushed off, except for Connor, who went to Eddie who was shaking. Eddie held his inhaler tightly in his hand and kept using it, trying to get his breath._

_"Richie." Eddie remembered, finding the strength to get up and scan the water. Nothing. "Richie!" Eddie called out but got no response. The eerie stillness made Eddie uneasy as he trudged through the water. "Richie!" Still nothing. He jumped back as Connor got in the water beside him, calling Richie's name out as well. Eddie's chest began to tighten. "God damn it Richie!" He screamed against the still lake._

_"Over here!" Connor called out as he held the pale kid up above the water. There was no color in his cheeks and his body was cold. Eddie raced over and helped drag the kid to shore. He wasn't breathing. "I'm gonna run to go get help. Stay with him, okay?"_

_"Like I'd fucking leave him," Eddie scoffed as the kid ran up the trail. "Come on, Richie. Wake up," Eddie put both his arms around the kid, embracing him. "I can't fucking lose you, okay? So, wake the fuck up."_


	15. How It Began to Unravel (2)

_Eddie visited the hospital every single day against his mother's wishes. He would sit beside Richie's bed during most days, and sometimes, the days when Maggie visited, he would stand. His mother complained he would get ill from the patients, but Eddie didn't mind. He wanted to be there when Richie woke up-he needed to be there when Richie woke up. His leg bounced constantly as he drummed his fingers on his lap. 'Richie would wake up soon. He had a few broken ribs and just needed to rest.' _

_On most days after school, Stanley would wait with Eddie in the hospital room. They'd do homework together beside Richie, discussing what happened that day. On other days, Bill and Eddie would be there, silently waiting. Bill would try to talk, but his stutter and emotions would get the best of him. "D-d-do y-y-you th-think h-h-he'll g-g-ge-get b-bb-bett-tt-er?"_

_"Of fucking course, he will." Eddie would always mutter back, and they would go back to sitting in silence. It's been two whole weeks since Richie has been in the hospital, and every single day made Eddie die just a little more inside. The fifteenth day was when his mother had enough._

_"You are not going back to that hospital, Eddie-bear!" Sonia yelled at her son before he opened the front door. Eddie sighed, turning around to see her. "It is not safe for you!"_

_"Richie saved me from those bullies, mom!" Eddie shouted back, "The least I can do is go see him." Sonia went towards her son, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder._

_"Honey, Richie was the reason those boys pushed you in the first place. He is not your friend." Sonia hugged her crying child, "You know what boys like that are filled with? Diseases. I wouldn't want my Eddie-bear catching some nasty disease from someone like that. Why don't we just stay inside? Watch some television with Mama?" Eddie nodded, knowing he wouldn't be able to escape now. He'll just have to wait. "Good. That's my Eddie-bear. I love you."_

_"I love you too, Mommy."_

* * *

_The lights in the hospital room were way too fucking bright. Richie squinted, his head was still pounding. He looked around the empty room. What fucking happened? He saw balloons around his post and 'Get Well' cards on the table. He saw a new pair of glasses beside the cards and put them on. "Hey," a blonde kid stood by the doorway with a card in his hand, "Wanted to see how you were feeling."_

_"Connor?" Richie groaned as the memories started to flood in, "Why the fuck do you care? You were with those kids that beat me to a bloody pulp! Where's Eddie?" He winced trying to get up. "Did you fuckers lay a hand on him?" Connor put his hands up, shaking his head._

_"Joshua only pushed him. They left after throwing you in the lake," The kid took a step forward, "I came to apologize, but you don't make it easy, do you?" A smirk spread across his lips._

_"Are you-You've got to be fucking kidding me, right?" Richie snapped at the kid, "You and your cousin put me through hell and the second I get to high school YOU and your buddies decide to torture me some more! Well, you can kindly shove your apology up-"_

_"I was kidding, Jesus," Connor chuckled, "It's cute to see you get worked up." Richie felt his cheeks get hot from blushing, so he looked down. "I really am sorry. About everything. I wanted to talk to you immediately after the arcade, but my cousin...."_

_"Is the biggest dick in town?" Richie scoffed._

_"Who is also in a mental ward for murdering his own father. So, don't take anything he did or what I said to heart because crazy runs in our fucking veins," Connor continued to smirk that dumbass smirk as he took another step into the room, "I am really sorry, Richie."_

_"It's okay." Richie managed to say, "Just wished you kinda stepped in, though. Wasn't wearing my bathing suit that day."_

_"Joshua and I talked. He shouldn't be bothering you or that other kid for awhile. At least not in my presence," Connor took a step forward, resting his arms on the arm of the hospital bed, "If someone else has a problem with you, just tell me. I'll take care of it," He winked at Richie, who jokingly pushed him back. He set the card by the table, turning to walk out._

_"Connor?" Richie meekly called after for the kid, who perked his head up and looked back at Richie, "Do you wanna stay a little?"_

_"Sure," Connor smiled back._

* * *

_Sonia fell asleep in the middle of the episode Eddie wasn't even paying attention to. As soon as he heard her snore, he tiptoed to the door, opening and shutting it quietly. He strapped on his helmet and raced off to the hospital. Walking in, he said hello to Janet, the receptionist. She has been working most of the days; when it wasn't here, it was an older woman named Sarah. "Hello," Eddie smiled, "How's he doing today?"_

_"Really good. He's just woken up," The blonde girl smiled back as Eddie felt his heart skip a beat. He briskly walked to the room, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw the kid from the lake. That scumbag blonde in Richie's room. Eddie was going to walk in and tell that dickhead to get lost when he heard laughter. Richie was...laughing? With this dickhead? No, that honestly can't be fucking true. Eddie thought to himself sneaking up to the window to get a better look._

_"I can't believe you had to move here because of your sadistic prick of a cousin," Richie teased, his fingers kept trailing Connor's card. The blonde boy laughed back, shrugging as his arm rested against the side of Richie's bed._

_"Yeah, well, it's not like my uncle has a lot of siblings that like him. Also, I think my mom really wanted a break from the city," Connor looked up at the clock in the room, "Shit, I'm supposed to be home soon."_

_"I'll see you around?" Richie's voice held a somewhat desperate tone._

_"Yeah. When are you able to leave the hospital?"_

_"Sometime in the next few days. As soon as they make sure my ribs are completely healed."_

_"Swing by the arcade when you're out. That's where I'm at after school on most days." Connor smiled and waved at Richie as he left, not seeing Eddie clinging to the wall. Eddie took another peek back into the room, watching Richie still trailing his fingers along with Connor's note. Connor, who only fucking showed up once while Richie was in the hospital, Bowers' note. Eddie ripped his card in two, throwing it in the trash and ran out of the hospital with tears in his eyes. Fuck Connor. And fuck Richie fucking Trashmouth Tozier._


	16. Pillow Talk (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I understand this chapter is a little short, but I promise the other chapters will be longer and more in-depth.

Richie stood outside on the balcony in his boxers, lighting a cigarette and looking out at the city. He loved how the city came alive at night; it was so fucking beautiful. Eddie was in the shower, of course, but Richie didn't mind. For the first time in a long time, he felt at peace-he felt strong. He inhaled the cigarette deeply. He looked down at his arms, touching the old needle marks. It's been about two years since he's been clean, but when he got the call from Mike, he spun out of control. He took two doses before he could even stomach the thought of going back to Derry. Richie hasn't touched anything since; he promised Eddie when he saw him look down at his arms.

_"It was just...going back to Derry brought up a lot of emotions that I just couldn't deal with and-"_

_"Shh...shh, it's okay Rich,"_

"Hey." Eddie's arms wrapped around Richie's waist, pulling him into a warm embrace, "Whatcha doing up here?" When he spotted the cigarette, his nose twitched, "You do know those things kill, right?" Richie shrugged, making Eddie chuckle. "Seriously, though, if you don't like stop, I don't think I can keep hugging you. The smell makes me want to fucking throw up."

"You never lectured Beverly about her smoking," Richie pouted, putting the cigarette out and throwing it away in the trash bin.

"That's because I don't want to kiss Beverly. If I did, I'd make her chew like a thousand mints before even considering it."

"Awww, Eds, is that your way of saying you want to kiss me? Again?" Richie laughed, turning around so he could play with Eddie's hair. He leaned in close, whispering, "Because I'd like to kiss you too...among other things."

"After you fucking brush your teeth," Eddie pulled back, still smiling, "It smells like you ate a fucking ashtray."

"Aye aye, captain," Richie chuckled, moving back inside the room and headed to the bathroom. Eddie went back to the bed, putting on his jeans and shirt as he waited for Richie to return. He was nervous to see everyone again, but he felt that as long as Richie was there, he'd be able to get through it. Richie was the only one who made Eddie feel brave. 

"You ready," Richie stood in front of Eddie, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah," Eddie smiled weakly, following Richie out the door.


	17. The Losers' Meeting Has Begun (1)

"Don't you EVER just leave like that again!" Beverly punched Richie softly in the chest, "I was worried sick something happened to you! Ben assured me you left to do meetings with your manager or whatever, but when he called I knew-I just _knew_ something bad happened." She sobbed into Richie's chest, taking a break from hitting him, "You better have a good fucking reason why you left and didn't fucking call me, Richie, because if you don't I might just-"

"Bev...Beverly," Richie lifted her head so she could meet his gaze, "I promise you I have a _very_ good reason. I...I had to pick someone up."

"PIck someone up?" She scoffed, "Pick someone up? Are you fucking kidding me?!? _Richie Tozier so help me God I don't-_ " Beverly pulled back from Richie in shock. Her skin grew pale and she began to feel faint as she stared at the man. The man she saw die twice; once in her mind, and once in Richie's arms. "Eddie?" She pushed back Richie and embraced Eddie, who hugged back tightly. 

"Hiya Bev," Eddie smiled weakly as he held her in his arms. "I missed you."

"I-... _How???"_ She cried happily, touching Eddie's cheek. Nothing, not even a scar. Not even a mark. Her hand went to his chest, where she remembered was covered in blood. She took her hand away gently as Eddie winced. "Oh, fuck, I'm sorry." Beverly kept her lips pursed together as she moved her hand to her mouth. 

"It's okay, Bev. I promise." Eddie said, "There's no wound there, anymore. Not even a mark. It's just...a weird fucking phantom pain." Bev hugged him once more, sobbing into his shoulder. 

"I'm so sorry we didn't get you out of there," She whispered in his ear, "We thought you were..." The word wouldn't come out of her mouth, but Eddie knew what she meant.

"I _did,_ " He whispered back, watching Richie put his hands in his pockets while he waited. "I don't know how, but I'm back, Bev."

"I..." Bev began to cry again into Eddie's shirt. She couldn't help herself; he held her tightly as she tried to get herself together. "B..Ben's inside," Her voice croaked, "Mike's here too...Bill left to...visit Audra's family," She sniffled as she tried to get the wrinkles out of his t-shirt, "I"m going to call him though. This is important," Squeezing Eddie's hand, Beverly smiled as tears poured down her face. Eddie looked at Richie, who nodded in support. Giving a weak smile, Eddie followed the others inside. 

* * *

Ben hugged Eddie tightly as Mike kept his distance, trying to decide if he was really here or not. Eddie didn't take offense because he would be fucking freaked out too if the shoe was on the other foot. Beverly went outside, shakily grabbing a cigarette from her purse. She lit it and inhaled the sweet tobacco smoke.

"Can I bum one from you?" Richie stepped outside with her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. She nodded, handing him one and her lighter.

"How...how are you not in shock by all of this?" She was referring to Eddie being resurrected, "I mean, I...I don't know if I can process any of this, Rich," She inhaled more of her cigarette.

"Oh, fucking trust me, I am. It's all on the inside, but I am fucking freaking the fuck out," Richie said, adjusting his glasses, "I don't know...I think a part of me always wanted him to come back, y'know? When he died Bev...I..." He took a puff, "It was like I fucking died too. Right there, in the fucking dirty sewer." Beverly put her hand on his shoulder, watching the frustration boil in his eyes. He nodded at her sympathetically as he tried to choose the right words. "I would be okay if...if he'd just fucking talk about it, y'know? Like I get it that it's a fucking weird-ass thing to be resurrected but...I just, he won't talk about it with me, Bev." 

"I know honey, but for a fragile person like Eddie to go through something as traumatic as that," Bev shook her head, "It's going to take time. Hell, _I'm_ still trying to process it."

"I am too, Bev. It's like...those months of fucking grieving and all that shit is just fucking pointless now. And who fucking knows if one day we all wake up and he's..." Richie sighed. He didn't even want to think about that scenario, but it has been playing in his head over and over again like some fucking broken record. _Beep beep Richie._

"It's gonna be okay, Richie. We are all going to be here with you and Eddie. We are _all_ going to get through this together. Okay?" Bev looked into Richie's eyes, "We're going to figure this shit out together. We're Losers, it's what we do." Richie chuckled, flicking his cigarette off the porch and nodding at his friend.

* * *

The one thing Eddie loved to do when he was stressed out of his mind was cooking; granted he was under major supervision from either Sonia or Myra, he still enjoyed it nonetheless. When he gained freedom from his mother and before he met his wife, Eddie took cooking classes as his electives. It made him feel in control of something, which he never felt before; it was either Sonia telling him what to do and what to wear or Myra telling him what tie would look best with his work suit. When Ben asked him if he wanted to help cook dinner, Eddie gladly accepted. 

"I really got into cooking after I left Derry," Ben said as he turned the sizzling steak over, "I also got into running. With learning how to cook healthy meals and exercise, the weight just melted off," he chuckled as Eddie nodded while he cut up carrots. "What got you into it?"

"Just really liked it," Eddie shrugged, placing the cut-up vegetables in a bowl with spinach and lettuce. He began to mix it up when he asked, "So, you and Bev. When did that happen?"

"When we all in Derry. After the whole... _thing_ , we kinda just escaped together," Ben smiled, "I know it's soon, but I think I"m going to ask her to marry me."

"Marriage, wow," Eddie chuckled, "Wait, isn't she, like, currently married?"

"She's going through a divorce at the moment, but it's going to be finalized soon. But, I can wait," Ben nodded.

"I don't know man." Eddie shook his head.

"Don't know what?" Ben furrowed his brows, looking at Eddie.

"If you could really get a girl like Bev," Eddie's mouth twisted into a small smirk, waving over Mike as he saw him walking to the living room, "Hey, Mike, how do you want your steak done?" Ben looked away from Eddie, a small frown formed from his lips. 

"Uh, medium, I guess," Mike shrugged, leaning against the island countertop. 

"Hmm, that's weird. I pegged you for being a well done kinda guy," Eddie shrugged as he set the salad bowl on the countertop. He leaned in to whisper in Mike's ear, "I like them well done. Almost... _burnt to a fine crisp._ " As Eddie leaned back, his twisted smirk grew wider into a smile. Mike grabbed his shirt pulling him back in.

"What the _hell_ did you say to me?" He spat loudly, making Ben look up from his cooking. 

"Jesus, Mike. What's going on?" Richie rushed over as soon as he walked in; Bev followed closely behind. As soon as Richie began to speak, Mike loosened his grip just enough for Eddie to wiggle out of it. Mike mumbled something, leaving the room to go outside and Ben followed to try and cool him down. Richie looked to Eddie for answers, but Eddie just shrugged, his eyes darted away from his gaze. "Eddie," Richie grabbed the shorter man's arm, squeezing it sympathetically, "Are you okay?"

"I"m fine," Eddie nodded, still not meeting the other man's gaze, "Let's just eat, okay?" 

* * *

"Bill just called. He ran into traffic and is going to be a little late, so we might as well dig in before we let this beautiful meal Benny-boy prepared for us," Richie smiled as he sat down next to Eddie, who was picking at his salad with his fork. He hasn't talked much since the MIke incident, which made Richie a little worried. Ben was able to calm Mike down, but he didn't even look in the direction of where Eddie was sitting; he mostly kept his head down and enjoyed the dinner. Ben, Beverly, and Richie were holding up most of the conversations-they discussed Richie's upcoming shows, Bev's business, Ben's new architectural successes. It didn't matter what topic was being conversed because it didn't ease the tension in the slightest. Bill arrived fifteen minutes after calling Richie. He walked in uneasy as he spotted Eddie. 

"Hi, Bill," Eddie smiled, getting up to shake his hand. Bill stayed where he was, looking to Richie. Slowly putting his hand down, Eddie went back to his seat. 

"Can we talk, Rich? _Alone?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, this chapter and the next are going to be experimental chapters. I wanna know what you guys think about them before I continue my direction with the storyline. If it's not well received, I might go with my second option. I do hope you guys enjoy it, though!


	18. Pillowtalk (2)

"What the fuck is it, Bill?" Richie snapped as he sat on the bed. Mike watched as Bill paced back and forth in the room; anxiously waiting for him to say something. _Anything_. "Seriously, what is up with you guys?"

"It's about Eddie," Mike tried to explain, "Bill and I have been doing research since Derry, and we believe _that_ isn't Eddie." Richie furrowed his eyebrows as he crossed his arms.

"What?"

"Has he told you how he came back?" Bill finally spoke up, looking Richie dead in the eyes, "Like where did he wake up at? _How_ he woke up? Anything?" 

"Not yet, but-"

"I knew it. This could be a trick, Richie," Bill stammered as he continued to pace, "Maybe we didn't kill it. Maybe It got out of Derry to..to,"

"Bill, we did kill It. We ripped its fucking heart out of its chest," Richie growled, "And as for Eddie, well, no, I don't know how the hell he came back, but shouldn't we be glad? If it were Stanley,"

"What about Stan?" Bill interrupted, glaring at Richie as he watched him put his hands up in protest.

" _If_ it were Stanley, Bill, you wouldn't dare to think twice about it," Richie glared back, standing up, "I don't want to hear more about this, guys. You're all acting fucking insane."

"Richie, Eddie told me he liked his steaks _burnt_. And smiled like he wanted me to think about..."

  
"Eddie wouldn't fucking do that."

"Because it's not Eddie, Rich." Mike shook his head, "Now, as I have been trying to explain, the research Bill and I did shows-"

"I don't want to hear about this!' Richie pushed the two men out of his way as he headed for the door, "Eddie is alive. He is sitting in my living room right now, instead of being buried underneath that fucking nightmare of a house. End of fucking discussion," Richie slammed the door, walking back into the living room. Eddie was nestled on the couch asleep and Bev and Ben were cuddled up on the other side. When she saw Richie, Beverly went over to him to ask him what happened. "Nothing. They're just being fucking paranoid," Richie snapped as he watched Bill and Mike emerge from the bedroom. "I think it would be best if we all call it a night."

"I'm not leaving you alone with _him_ , Richie," Bill stammered, "I don't care if you don't want to believe what we're trying to say, but I'm not going to put you in danger."

"Then you can crash here, but you'll see that you're both fucking wrong," Richie grumbled, wanting to say more, but he quieted himself down as he saw Eddie stir awake.

"What's up?" Eddie said groggily, "What time is it?" 

"It's time to go to bed. And for you to stop drinking so much fucking red wine, you lightweight," Richie joked, helping Eddie off of the couch. "Bev and Ben are already in the spare bedroom, so you guys can just crash on the couch," He was referring to Mike and Bill, who cautiously watched Eddie as they went into the bedroom.

* * *

"What did Bill and Mike want?" Eddie said as he began to take his shirt off. Richie plopped himself on the bed, not wanting to look at him. _They can't be right, okay? They just fucking can't be._

"I want to talk to you."

"We _are_ talking." Eddie joked, but could tell something was up. Richie began to fidget with his glasses, remaining quiet. "What's up?"

"How did you...how did you," Richie sighed, "How the fuck did you come back alive, Eddie?" His eyes were locked on the brunette, demanding an answer. 

"I told you I don't remember-"

"Jesus, Eds, please. You have to remember _something. Anything_ ," Richie was begging at this point, watching as Eddie fixed his gaze on the ground. "Please, tell me if this is real. If _you_ are real." 

"What the fuck does that even mean, Rich?" Eddie spat, "Of fucking course I'm real-"

"Then just fucking tell me what you remember!" Eddie jumped back as Richie shouted while jumping to his feet. Richie walked over to him, his stare was cold and distant and tears were streaming down his face. He tried to show no emotion, just in case, but for fuck's sake, it was Eddie. Richie grabbed Eddie's wrist, making the smaller man look up at him. "Please tell me this isn't a trick.....that you're....you're not.."

"I'm me, Richie." Eddie's voice broke, "I swear to God, I'm me." Richie immediately let go of his wrist. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You fucked everything up, Trashmouth. Beep fucking Beep._

"Eddie...Eds, I'm so sorry," He could feel his chest tightening, unable to breathe, "I shouldn't have yelled like this, I-" He clumsily backed himself to the bed, plopping himself down as he put his hands over his face. "I'm sorry...I'm so fucking sorry."

"Stop," Eddie rushed over, wrapping his arms around Richie, "Stop. It's okay." As he clung onto him tighter, Eddie could feel him start to calm down. "Shh, please. Richie, I'm sorry. It's okay, I'm not mad nor upset at you. Please, just...just stop crying. I hate seeing you cry." 

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize...please...." Eddie continued to cling onto him, he couldn't risk letting go. God, he didn't want to let go. "I....I do remember some things....it's all a hazy blur, but..." Richie put his head up to look at Eddie, who was fidgeting with his hands. "I...I remember you. In the fucking air. You...you were trapped in the deadlights." Richie nodded. "You were growing paler and it was like...I was watching you die the worst and slowest fucking death and...I just...I couldn't. I had to fucking do something."

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I fucking did Richie! I couldn't...I'm not as strong as you, okay? I would fucking die all over again if it meant saving you." Tears flowed down his cheeks and onto the blanket. "I...I could never watch you die like that again, okay?"

"I'm sorry."

"I remember....I remember throwing the fucking spear...rushing to get you out of that trance....and then just pain." Those words stung Richie; he could vividly remember each moment of Pennywise grabbing him with It's claw and...

"I remember...you guys going to kill It...and then I just kinda...started to fade. It was like I wasn't in the sewers anymore. I was...this sounds so fucking weird, but...I was back at the Clubhouse. With Stanley." Silence echoed the room as soon as Eddie said his name. He could feel Richie start to breathe heavier, so he squeezed him softly to reassure him. "He's okay...He's at peace now." 

"Did he...did he say anything to you?" 

"He told me," Eddie paused, biting his lip, "He told me that it wasn't my time. That...that he loves each and every one of us and he's...he's so so sorry. He just couldn't do it again...he couldn't face It again."

"Stanley saved you."

"Yeah." Eddie sniffled, kissing Richie's cheek. "He did." 

"Eds, I am...you shouldn't have been the one who went through that shit." 

"It's okay. I'm here now. I'm with _you_ now, Richie. I'm not going anywhere," Eddie could feel his stomach drop as his heart began to break. Eddie's never lied to Richie before until now. Now, he's lied twice.

_AWW, Eddie-bear? You're not going to tell him the truth about our little deal? About how I am apart of you, now. How you are a fucking monster, like me?_

_Shut. the. fuck. up. I am nothing like you._

_If that's so true, then tell me how you just lied to the person who's always been honest with you. When he finds out...it might just fucking kill him. _

_You are not ALLOWED to touch Richie._

_All in good time, Eddie-bear. All in good time._


	19. Beep Beep and Fucking Listen, Richie

_"BEEP BEEP MOTHERFUCKER" Eddie roared as he spiked the fucking clown in the face with a spear. It shrieked, impaling itself on a spikey rock and slowly shrinking Itself. "HOLY SHIT!" Eddie muttered, immediately running towards Richie. He was cold and unconscious, his breathing was shallow. "Richie, buddy, wake up! I think I did it! I killed It! I-" Sharp pain jolted from Eddie's abdomen. He gazed at the giant claw poking out of his stomach, blood splattered all over Richie and his glasses. Eddie could barely speak or think as pain filled his entire body. 'This isn't real. This can't be fucking real.'_

_"E..Eddie!" Richie managed to choke out, but he couldn't hear anything due to the amount of pain he was in. Eddie reached his hand out, trying to grab onto Rich._

_"R..richie?" Everything else had swirled into a blur; being tossed around like a doll by Pennywise to Richie clinging his hand while trying to stop the bleeding with his jacket. 'I'm fucking dying....in a fucking nasty fucking sewer...' He remembered Richie leaving to help kill It, and then numbness began to overtake his body. Eddie smiled for a moment as he knew the pain was ceasing away, but so was he. Into this dark fucking abyss...Eddie never really prayed much or was religious at all for that matter. He never really thought about that kind of shit; unknown things always scared the shit out of him. He began to weep, clinging onto Richie's jacket tighter as he could feel his heartbeat slowing down. He allowed the darkness to consume him, feeling the grip he had on Richie's jacket loosen. 'I don't want to go, yet. Please...'_

* * *

_"Hey Eddie," a small voice rang in Eddie's ears, waking him. Groggily sitting up, he squinted at the light coming from the ceiling of the Clubhouse. 'What the fuck is happening right now? Where the fuck....' His thoughts drifted off when he saw who_ _was speaking to him. "It's been a while," the boy said while he was adjusting his shower cap that he made everyone wear._

_"Stanley..."_

_"This is really fucking weird, right?" Stanley chuckled to try and lighten the mood, but Eddie just continued to stare in bewilderment. Eddie winced as he felt a sharp pain in his chest and head. "That's just your being adjusting to...passing over," Stanley took a step closer in Eddie's direction, not wanting to startle the already panicked man._

_"I'm...?"_

_"Sadly." Stanley took another small step._

_"Why are you?.... Didn't you?"_

_"Kill myself? Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I just couldn't face...I couldn't do it again," Stanley put his hands in his pockets, then realizing what Eddie meant. "OH! Why I'm not an adult?" Eddie nodded slowly. "Well, because you didn't see the adult version of me. I thought this form would...comfort you more."_

_"I...form?"_

_"This was how you saw me last. When you've been passed over for a reasonable amount of time you begin to...to be able to do things you weren't to before." Eddie groaned as the pain in his chest increased, but Stanley didn't seem concerned._

_"This is a dream. Or...some fucking twisted mind game Pennywise is playing. Well, fuck you! I'm NOT going to play, you psycho fuck!" Eddie spat, but Stanley's calm demeanor didn't change._

_"It's not a dream. And Pennywise can't hurt you here."_

_"Then why am I fucking...in pain," Eddie could feel a nasty copper taste in his mouth, but when he put his hands to his lips, he didn't see any blood. 'I was impaled...by that fucking clown.' He looked down at his chest but saw no wound nor blood._

_"You're passing over...it hurts like a bitch, but its kind of...think of it like the rope that's connecting you to Earth is being cut," Stanley explained as he sat beside Eddie, who now had his knees pulled to his chest._

_"Stan...I don't want to be..." Eddie's voice broke as his eyes welled up in tears, shuddering as Stanley put his arm on his shoulder, "I want to go back...I...I can't...not like.." At this point, he was sobbing uncontrollably, hugging onto Stanley as tightly as possible._

**_'Eddie?'_ **

_His head jolted up as he heard a familiar voice call his name. "Richie?" He jumped to his feet, looking around to see where the voice came from._

**_'Hey, man, we got em. We did it....Eddie?'_ **

_It came from outside the clubhouse, it was as if he were at the entrance of it, but Eddie didn't see him. Stanley sighed, going over to Eddie. "What...what what the fuck is happening, Stan? Why do I hear...fucking Christ did he?"  
_

_"When the person who you have the deepest connection with is thinking about you or near your...body...you can hear their...their thoughts and what they're saying." Stanley tried to explain._

_"Can he hear me back?" Eddie turned his head around, his eyes gleaming with hope._

_"I...I'm not sure. I wouldn't say it's entirely-"  
_

_"RICHIE! RICHIE!" Eddie screamed at the entrance of the Clubhouse._

**_'He's alright. No, he's just hurt. We gotta get him out of here...He's hurt...Ben?....No he's okay...we just..we have to get him out of here, Bev...'_ **

_He could hear the desperation in Richie's voice...the begging to reassure himself. "RICHIE, YOU DUMB FUCK, I'M RIGHT FUCKING HERE! LISTEN TO ME!" He screamed as hard as he could, while Stanley just watched. "Why the fuck won't he listen to me?"_  
  
"Eddie, some people just can't hear the other side. I'm so sorry, Eds," Stanley tried to pull him away from the entrance, but Eddie wouldn't fucking budge. "Eddie, come on." 

_"No, okay? He's fucking hurting, Stanley....I...I need to go back." Eddie said frantically._

_"You can't go back, Ed."_

_"I have to."_

_"You can't."_

_"I fucking have to at least try," He began to climb the stairs, but Stanley grabbed him and pulled him back, "Stanley, please, I have to go back! LET GO OF ME, I NEED TO GO BACK..."_

**_'WE CAN STILL HELP HIM, GUYS! WE CAN STILL HELP HIM!'_ **

_"RICHIE! RICH!!!" Eddie could feel the pain in his chest worsen and simultaneously Richie's voice began to be quieter. His connection was getting weaker...he was passing over._

**_"GUYS WE CAN STILL HELP HIM!"_ **

_"RICHIE PLEASE LISTEN...._ " 

_**'no!.....Eddie!....We can save him...please!'** _

_The voice was now barely a whisper, but Eddie clung on to every word. "Richie, I'm right here....I'm right fucking here," He tried to break free from Stanley's grasp, but Eddie knew he couldn't go back. He felt the connection cut...every inch of him was in pain. He fell down on his knees, with Stanley by his side. "Richie please, I am right...I'm right here...." He sobbed, pounding his fists into the dirt floor. Stanley hugged Eddie, trying to reassure him Richie's gonna be okay. "Richie..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to come out earlier in the day, but my "smart" self didn't save it when I was halfway through and my computer crashed. Also, this chapter was going to be longer, but I've decided to break it up so you guys get this today and I can post the other one tomorrow. There will be another chapter along with part two to this one as well, perhaps even more if time permits. I know I commented that I was going to post every day, but school started and I had to balance my priorities.


	20. In a World Without You. (1)

_Eddie laid in the hammock, his hands folded neatly across his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. It's been what feels like forever since he's heard Richie's voice, but maybe...just maybe he'll say something soon. 'Maybe he just hasn't thought of me....'_

_"Don't think like that, Eddie," Stanley said, while he sat on the swing, "You and I both know that that isn't true."_

_"Stan, I have another question," Eddie perked his head up to look at his friend, "How the hell can you hear what I think? Is it like another one of those weird fucking other side shit?"_

_"Basically. When your connection to this side gets stronger, you'll be able to hear what I think, too," Stanley hopped off the swing, going over to a table and grabbing a book from it; it had a brown leather cover and it looked somewhat older. He opened a page, grabbing a pen and wrote something. He then looked into it, smiling. Curious, Eddie got off the hammock and walked over to Stanley to see what he wrote. 'Bill Denbrough'_

_"What is this?" Eddie pointed at the book._

_"Before you came, I was really lonely. I couldn't go out of the Clubhouse and there wasn't much to do here but sit," Stanley brushed his hand against the writing, still smiling, "Maturin saw this and he gave me this book. He told me that if you write the name of somebody still alive, you can see their whole life....like a movie, in a sense." Stanley closed his eyes, "You can see their past, what they're doing in their present time, and even their future."_

_"Can I try it?" Eddie pleaded, "Please? I just...I miss him, Stan. I wanna know he's..."_

_"Of course," Stan handed the book and pen to his Eddie. They both sat down on the floor; Stanley watched Eddie as he fidgeted with the pen, "You okay?"_

_"I'm a little fucking freaked if I'm being honest," Eddie laughed, "I just...I need to know he's okay." Stanley nodded sympathetically. He knew what Eddie was going through, he knew how he felt. Being away from the only person you want to be with fucking sucks. Seeing them in pain because of you sucks even more. Finally gaining the courage, Eddie began to write Richie's name, feeling his hand shake with each letter he wrote._

_'Richie Tozier'_

* * *

There was snow on the sidewalk as hundreds of people walked down below; Richie looked down from the balcony, feeling nervous. It's his first show he's done since, and the tour was supposed to help him promote his new upcoming special. Smiling as he looked at his phone, he reread the 'Break a leg' texts all the Losers sent him. None of them could make his first show, sadly, but Richie understood. Bev and Ben had their businesses to run and Bill and Mike were too busy researching their next novel together. He put his phone away when his manager came out, looking at Richie worriedly. "You ready, Rich?" 

"I will be. Just give me a moment." His manager nodded, walking back inside. Richie got out his phone and began to text. 

' _Hey. My first show since that Derry disaster's today. It's a big one, its a sold-out show, so I'm pretty excited. I wish you were here, but you'd probably wouldn't have come. Would probably tell me how my humor's too crass or some shit. I'd still beg you to come, and make it my personal goal to make you laugh at least one of my jokes. I think I'd succeed in at least one smile :)'_

**_Send._ **

_unable to send. This phone number is no longer active._

Richie sighed before he began to type once again.

_'The reason I'm texting is...well I wanted to kinda ask you if I could use you in my set. My therapist said talking about...losing you would be helpful in me being able to heal. i promise not to joke about you too harshly, Eddie Spaghetti. I have to go now, or my manager will legit kill me. Bye.'_

**_Send._ **

_unable to send. This phone number is no longer active._

Putting his phone in his pocket, he walked back inside. Richie grabbed a water bottle before walking onto the stage; he squinted from the blinding stage lights. He should be used to it from how many stand-ups he's done, but he still felt like that same kid doing his first show in front of his first audience; nervous as fuck. The crowd cheered as he waved to them, walking up to the mic. He put his water bottle down on the stool beside him before looking out into the crowd. As soon as the applause died down enough, he began.

"Hello, everybody! I honestly cannot tell you how good it's to be back!," He smirked, "The last few months have been extremely rough...just so much rough sex you guys it's-" The crowd laughs, "My dick is tired, okay?" He chuckled before continuing, "Well, actually that's not the only stuff that's been going on....um....recently someone I knew...someone I was very close with, uh, died," He paused before continuing, "Yeah, I know, bummer of a way to start the show, but...just wanted to get that shit off my chest so I'm not in another one of those fucking tabloids talking about how I'm dead or some shit." A few people chuckled in the front row, "It's like if a fucking celebrity goes M.I.A. for one day, it's like 'well he's dead. Let's get to it boys, put it all over the covers!' Like...Jesus man, I just went to get a smoothie relax okay?" Richie took a long sip from his water bottle before continuing, "No, but...I'm going to miss him. He was one of my childhood friends, I know I rarely talk about that shit, but he was. He was like my first audience member...and my first heckler. Like I'd talk about fucking his mom and he'd...he actually was the person who made the 'Trashmouth' nickname stick, so you can thank him for that. Thank him for me being up here..." He took another long sip of water, "So, he was like this little germaphobe kid when we were growing up...always carried this little fucking inhaler everywhere and would take a puff every time I'd kick dirt on his shoes or some shit...he was also really fucking short, too...like this kid looked like a toddler when we were fucking thirteen like...genetics have not been kind to him..." 

Richie spent most of the show talking about Eddie, chuckling as he remembered all the good times they would mess around with each other. The audience seemed to like it, but Richie wasn't really focused on their reaction for once. The only person he really wanted to see this wasn't fucking here. "Great set, Richie!" His manager patted him on the back backstage, "Really sorry about your friend." 

"It's fine," Richie lied, "I'm just gonna go to my hotel room if that's cool."

"You sure you don't want to come to the afterparty?" His manager asked while he was busy texting on his phone. Richie knew it wasn't really necessary for him to go, or else his manager wouldn't have given him a choice.

"Yeah, man, I'm just really tired. Have fun, though," Richie smiled politely as he got in the cab. As soon as he was away from the theater, he began to cry. He got out his phone and began to type.

_'Hey man, show went well! They loved all the stories about the crazy shit we did as a kid. I obviously skipped the killer clown shit, but the other stuff they really enjoyed...Wish you could have seen it, Eds. MIss you'_

**_Send._ **

_unable to send. This phone number is no longer active._

* * *

It's been a whole year since the incident. Richie hasn't seen his therapist in a few months, but he wished he had scheduled an appointment for this day. Bev and Ben haven't been here since a month ago, but Richie understood. They had their own lives to get back to. Walking absentmindedly into the kitchen, Richie began to brew a pot of coffee. He smiled as hands crept around his waist. "Morning," Connor whispered into his ear, "How'd you sleep?"

"I slept decent considering..."

"What today is?" 

"Yeah," Richie looked down, trying his might not to start crying. Connor hugged him tightly in response. "I'm sorry. Today's just...I don't really want to think about today if I'm honest." 

"What do you want me to do, Rich?" Connor asked, turning the man around so he'd face him. Wiping the tears underneath Richie's eyes, he planted a kiss on his forehead. 

"Beverly said her flight's landing soon, but I don't think I can go out today, Connor. I just can't," He placed his hands around Connor's neck, sobbing. 

"Do you want me to pick her up? Are you gonna be okay alone if I do that because I can't find you like that again, Rich." Connor's voice quivered. Richie stayed in his embrace as he responded.

"You know that part is behind me," Richie lied, only to reassure his partner. It's not that he was going to anyway; he's been sober for over a few months and he's planning on keeping it that way. "I'll be okay." Richie kissed Connor on the cheek, giving him a small smile before turning back around to get a cup of coffee. Connor nodded, kissing his boyfriend on the cheek before leaving. Richie sighed, moving in the direction of the living room; he plopped down on the couch with a cup of coffee in his hand. Today was going to be a difficult day, and Richie knew that. He just didn't prepare for how bad the pain was going to feel.

* * *

"Are you finished with this, honey?" Bev pointed to the empty coffee cup, to which Richie responded by nodding. She gave him a small smile before taking it into the sink. "Ben and I really love your new comedy special, Richie. We watched with Mike in Seattle; Ben and I were there because of Ben's business and Mike just happened to be there." She turned on the hot water, plunging the sponge into the soapy water before beginning to wash the coffee mug. "We tried to contact you...to see you after the show." 

"My manager and I had to meet to talk about the next show. I'm sorry, fuck, I forgot to text you, didn't I?" Richie chuckled, "Is that why you're in my apartment babying me, Bev?" 

"No, I wanted to check up with you after hearing about what's happening between you and Connor."

"Are the tabloids already running that shit? It's only been a week." Richie clucked his tongue, "There's really nothing to discuss here, Bevvie. We just didn't strive in the marriage life." 

"I'm so sorry you're going through that, though," She sat down beside him, placing her small hand on his knee, "I know you really liked him, honey. If you ever need to talk about it or, maybe, the reason why I am always here."

"I miss him so much, Bev." Richie put his face onto her shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. 

"I know, honey," Beverly whispered in a soothing and calm manner, "But maybe it's best for you two to split up-'

"I wasn't talking about Connor," Richie interrupted, taking his glasses off while Beverly began to realize. _Eddie_. "I know it's fucking stupid, but I still have fucking nightmares about that day. The way he looked at me and when..." Richie couldn't even say it in fear that it will come true again. "I sound so fucking crazy, Bev. I was fine when I couldn't remember him. And now...I just can't forget about him." 

"You don't sound crazy at all," Bev reassured, hugging him as he cried, "It's gonna be okay, Richie...I promise." They laid together on the couch in each other's arms for the rest of the night. Ben walked in and placed a blanket over both of them, kissing Bev's cheek before going into the guest bedroom.

* * *

"Richie, dude, can you come out of the bathroom? The news articles aren't that bad!" His manager knocked on Richie's door, "We can still smooth it over, okay? I called a few of my buddies of mine and they're telling me the reporters only have one source. That's barely credible." Connor. Richie kept his head down, his hands twitched as he wrapped his fingers around the syringe. "I swear to you, we will get through this together, okay? I don't even care if you _are_ , Richie, but I need to know so we know what angle to play this." _Either we call out on their one source bullshit, or start wearing the fucking rainbow_ Richie scoffed, wincing as he plunged the needle deep into his skin. _Fuck this, I won't._ _Richie Tozier. Richie 'Faggot Trashmouth' Tozier._

"Richie, baby?" A masculine voice echoed in the bathroom, "Please, open the door. You're scaring me." Richie stayed on the floor of the bathroom, plunging a second needle into his veins. "I told you, I'm sorry. I was drunk, Rich, you know I'd never hurt you on purpose. It was an accident, now open the door. Please." The knocks grew louder; the whispers from the door turned into loud shouting. "Rich, God Damn it! Open the door!" Richie shook his head in response, not wanting to move. 

Not wanting to do anything, anymore. He was tired. Tired of feeling this aching numbness in his chest. He just couldn't find a reason to stay anymore. Plunging another needle into himself, he decided to use his last few remaining moments to do a mental checklist: _Said my goodbyes to all the Losers? Check. Gave all my money to charity? Check. Have enough dosage to fucking kill me? In the process to get to my bloodstream._ Richie closed his eyes, not wanting to think how Eddie would feel about this. He'd call him a fucking coward, or worse, give him that disappointed look. The one that just wants to make you tear your eyes out. He looked up at the ceiling, feeling his heart beat decrease, he whispered, "I'm sorry, Eds." 

_"For the last time, Richie, don't call me Eds."_


	21. Deal With the Devil (1)

_"Fuck!" Eddie threw the disgusting book harshly onto the dirt floor. Stanley looked up only somewhat surprised, perking his head up and furrowing his eyebrows at his friend. "This book is fucking bullshit, Stanley. Richie...no, okay, no. It's just fucking bullshit," He kicked it over to Stanley, who quickly wiped the dirt off the cover of it. "That bullshit isn't real. This, wherever I am, is not real. This is just some....fucked up dream, okay???" Eddie began to pace back and forth, "Richie...Richie fucking wouldn't okay?"_

_"What happened?" Stanley interrupted as he was placing the book back on the desk neatly, "What did you see?"_

_"I saw a whole lot of fucking bullshit!" Eddie spat while he still paced, "Richie's stupid, Stanley, but he's not that fucking stupid. He knows how fucking dangerous and unsanitary it is to just plunge a needle in his skin. You know how I know he knows? Because I heard it in his fucking head as he did it. He smiled, thinking of how I'd gag and scream at him for being fucking stupid!" _

_"Is he wrong, though?" Stanley smirked._

_"That's not the fucking point, Stan," Eddie couldn't even joke about what was going to happen to Richie. All Eddie knew is he needed to see Richie again. "Why can't we go back?" Stanley couldn't answer that, but Eddie just needed to get the built-up question out of his fucking chest. "Why haven't you fucking tried?"_

_"There...there really hasn't been a reason for me to," Stanley looked down, "I know Patty is going to be taken care of and will have the best life she deserves. And...and Bill is having and going to have a wonderful life. So, why should I go back? Their lives are great without me."_

_"Stanley.." Eddie felt like a fucking asshole. Hell, maybe he was one. He slid down, putting his knees into his chest, and began to sob._

_"No, trust me, the sad emotions that go along with that have passed. I'm more...content. The fact they both are going to be happy is the reason I was content with being down here alone." Stanley looked at his friend, knowing damn well if Richie were to have a healthy life without Eddie, Eddie would not be acting this way. Hell, if Stanley saw Bill being fucking stupid, maybe events would have gone differently._

_"It's not impossible...to go back up there," Stanley said quietly, but Eddie heard. He looked straight at Stanley, begging him to continue with just one look. "I...I don't know much about it, Eddie, but I know it's possible."_

_"How?" Eddie pressed further, he wanted to know- needed to know. _

_"It has something to do with up there, I think. Maturin always advises me not to go out there. Eddie," Stanley sighed, "It's going to be dangerous going up there...I have no idea what's up there, but...I've...I've heard things." He shivered, "I just...I want you to be careful, okay?"  
_

_"I will be, Stanley." Eddie paused, deciding whether or not to ask, "Why don't you come with me?" Stanley chuckled, shaking his head, "I'm serious, Stanley. I know Bill would be more than happy to see you." Although they weren't the closest, both Stanley and Eddie seemed to know each other's secrets. They bonded over the mutual feeling of wanting to be loved by a specific person._

_"I can't." Stanley swallowed the realization hard; if he went up there, he could fuck up Bill's happiness. He wanted Bill to be happy, even though Stanley couldn't share his happiness with him. "Just....if you don't end up getting hurt....can you tell him something for me?"_

_"Of course, Stan," Eddie nodded._

_"Tell him...Tell him I'm proud of him...and....and fucking go bird watching once in a while. I miss doing that, and Bill has never done it," Eddie laughed at Stanley, who was pretending to pout._

_"Stanley, I'm not going to tell Bill to go fucking bird-watching." He shook his head, "But I'll tell him the rest, okay?"_

_"Hope you don't die." Stanley smiled before deciding to hug Eddie. Eddie hugged back and climbed up the ladder. If only he knew what laid for him out there. If only he knew he'd be tormented by It...that he'd make a fucking deal with It if it meant to get back to Richie._

_If I can just get back to Richie._


	22. You Fucking Lied to Me

Eddie woke up earlier than Richie, who was snoring softly beside him. He smiled, gently playing with his lover's curly hair so he wouldn't wake him. He wrapped his arms around Richie's chest, too comfortable to get up. He loved just watching Richie be in peace...Richie always slept like that. Without a care in the world. "Stop moving," Richie let out a groan, "You're waking me up." 

"Sorry I didn't let you sleep past noon, jackass," Eddie fired back.

"I need my beauty sleep," Richie mumbled, his eyes still closed.

"Yeah, from what I can see, you'll need a lot more to even consider yourself beautiful." Eddie teased, still touching Richie's curls. He almost yelped as the taller man pinned him down, his eyes barely open, smirking. 

"You think I'm beautiful." He teased, kissing Eddie's cheek. 

"Yeah, well, my eyes must be fucking defected or some shit," Eddie smiled, planting a kiss on Richie's lips, "Jesus, do you not brush your teeth at night?" Eddie pulled back, trying not to gag from the terrible aftertaste of Richie's booze-breath. 

"What, am I supposed to?" Richie joked, laughing as Eddie gagged, "Fuck off, you like my smelly breath."

"It's fucking disgusting," Eddie squirmed against Richie's tight grip.

"That's not what you said last night," Richie winked, letting go of Eddie and plopping back on the bed. He chuckled as he watched the smaller man blush. "Why're you up so early anyway?" 

"I had a bad dream," Eddie said bluntly, not realizing Richie looking at him. His eyes were filled with concern. "It's okay, Rich. It wasn't...I used to get them a lot as a kid. Nothing new." He grabbed Richie's arm to pull himself in closer to Richie. "I promise," He kissed him again, pulling him closer until Richie got on top of him. Richie fumbled his hands to Eddie's hips, his favorite part on his lover's body. He loved everything about Eddie; his small frame, his doe-like eyes, his small, tight lips. The thing Richie loved the most about Eddie wasn't even anything physical, though; it was _how_ Eddie was. Analytical, smart, handsome....all the things Richie was not. Eddie knew how to keep his fucking trap shut when something good was happening to him. Richie, on the other hand, did not.

"I love you," Richie blurted out, out of breath. Eddie paused, looking up at him. _Beep fucking Beep, Rich._ Eddie could see the begging of approval in Richie's eyes. The longing for him to feel the same, or for him to just rewind time and take it back. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't...I didn't mean that. Can we just pretend it.." Eddie realized he was quiet for too long, causing Richie to go in a spiral. Eddie pulled Richie in to kiss him, letting his lips linger for awhile before responding.

"I love you, too, Richie."

* * *

Bill had been up all night trying to find a way to make Richie listen. But with Eddie under his fingertips, there wasn't much to be done, was there? _Eddie said something to Ben and Mike, Richie. Ben's been distant, and won't say shit, but Mike knows. Mike knows what the fuck you are, 'Eddie'._ Rubbing his eyes, he looked over and saw Eddie tiptoe into the kitchen. He followed him.

"What are you doing?" The abruptness of Bill's voice made Eddie jump, but he laughed when he saw who spoke. 

"Oh, hey, Bill," Eddie smiled.

"What are you doing?" Bill crossed his arms, keeping his distance from him and that _thing_. 

"Just about to make some coffee. Want some?" Eddie didn't notice the harshness in Bill's voice, or he pretended he didn't. Bill nodded, walking cautiously to the island countertop and taking a seat. He watched intently as Eddie brewed the coffee as if he couldn't trust him. He couldn't. Because that's not fucking Eddie. "Here," He handed Bill a mug, taking a sip of his. Bill waited until Eddie took a drink first before he took a sip. They both just sat in silence, drinking their coffee and zoning out. 

"How?" Bill was the first to break the silence, "How the hell did you come back?" Eddie sighed, putting his fingers against his head.

"I already told Richie everything. I don't remember, much, Bill." Eddie explained, "I thought he filled you guys in on that." 

"Yeah, well," Bill took a long sip of his coffee, "You know me. I was never the one who listened to bullshit." Eddie shot a glance at him, but Bill just continued, "I always found out the fucking truth." 

"Yeah, you were always pretty fucking reckless," Eddie mumbled, "Always getting us into deep trouble...almost always killing one of us just to 'get the truth'. Maybe that's why Stanley-"

"You don't deserve to say his fucking name," Bill growled, "You never did. Even when you were _you_." 

"I saw him." Eddie continued, "Stanley...right after I died. He wanted me to tell you something." He could feel his chest boil with rage, he could feel his grip on control was waning. _'Please, be gentle with him.'_ He pleaded as Pennywise laughed in his head. 

"Yeah, what?" Bill scoffed, drinking his coffee. _'This little prick...'_ _'Please, just don't...' 'We have a fucking deal, Eddie. Not my fault you're a fucking stupid and selfish coward'._. 

"He told me it's all your fault, Bill," Eddie's voice grew cold, "He told me how you weren't really fucking sick that day. How you killed Georgie...and _him_. Jesus, next time you want to kill a fucking clown, get it right the first time. So there won't be a lot of fucking casualties." 

Bill gripped his mug tighter, "You know I already faced this fear. You really must be fucking desperate, Pennywise." 

"The funny thing is, Bill." Eddie continued, "Is that you won't be able to see Stanley. With how many people you got fucking killed...well, there's a special place called _hell_ waiting for you." He grabbed Bill's hand, his eyes glowed a feverish yellow, "Don't worry though, I'm taking good care of the people you fucking murdered. Georgie...Stanley...Eddie...They're all being good little boys. You never were a good fucking kid, were you? Always making everything fucking difficult." Bill kept his gaze with Eddie, transfixed on his eyes. "I can feel your guilt, Billy-boy. I can almost fucking taste it....why don't you just let me ease that pain," Eddie's grip grew tighter, "Come float with your friends." 

"Eddie." Richie's voice made Eddie quickly take his hand off of Bill's, his eyes slowly turning back to its original dark brown hue. He looked over at Richie, who had Bev and Mike behind him. They look...fucking petrified. Bev had her hand over her mouth and Mike looked like he was ready to intervene. But, Richie? Richie looked fucking broken. "Eddie, what the fuck?" Richie couldn't even make himself take a step closer. 

"Richie, I-"

"Get the _fuck_ away from Bill, you fucking deranged clown!" Richie spat, his words hit Eddie like a ton of bricks. Bill stumbled, walking over to Richie and Bev. Bev hugged him tightly, crying into his shoulder. Eddie couldn't move or speak. He just kept looking at Richie. "You fucking lied to me," He said deflated, feeling the thousands of pieces his heart just shattered into. "You fucking lied to me," Richie repeated, feeling dizzy and nauseous. He took a step back, then another, before bolting into his bedroom. The others looked at Eddie, except for Bev. She calmly walked to Richie's door, knocking on it as much as she could to try and coax him out of the room. 


	23. I Need You to Talk to Me, Rich.

Richie stayed in his room for at least an hour before letting Beverly in. And then another hour before coming out. He looked calm; his fingers weren't fidgeting anymore and his eyes were dry. Beverly walked into the room with caution, closing the door gently behind her. "Hey," She said to Richie, who sat on the floor with papers and boxes scattered everywhere. He was looking for something, but she couldn't tell exactly what. She guessed but hoped her guess wasn't true. "Can I sit beside you?" Richie nodded, keeping his gaze transfixed at the wall. When sitting beside him, Beverly grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "Do you want to talk about what just happened?" 

"Not really, no," Richie didn't look at her, "But, I'm being forced to, aren't I?" 

"Nope. We can stay in here as long as we can. We might have to scavenge for food though, if we do." Beverly teased, but Richie didn't even smile at her joke. He made no reaction to her at all. "For real, Richie, we can stay in here until you're ready. Mike and Bill have Eddie-" 

"Tell them not to hurt him," Richie squeezed her hand back, "Please? This is the only favor I'll ever ask of you." 

"They won't hurt him, Richie."

"Just, it would make me feel a lot better if you told them," Richie pleaded, "Please, Bev?" She nodded patiently, getting up and leaving the room quietly. His focus went back to the wall as he grabbed the box nearest to him. 

* * *

"Hey," Bev motions for Ben and Bill to come over to her, while Mike watched Eddie's moves like a hawk. Only, there wasn't much to watch; he just sat himself on the couch and has barely said a word. He's waiting for this fucking nightmare to be over. _'But it's never going to be over, Eddie. Because you had to be a fucking coward'._ He couldn't even argue with Pennywise anymore; it was true, it was all true- he _is_ a fucking coward. I mean, how can you lie so blatantly to someone you're the closest to?

"We aren't. As much as we'd like to, we aren't." Bill growled, glaring at Eddie. 

"I know, but Richie just wanted me to double-check. He's..he's really bad, Bill. He's barely talking to me and...I don't know what to do," She began to break down, grabbing onto Ben for support. He hugged her tightly, running his fingers through her hair to calm her down. _Please be okay, Richie. Please, for the love of God, be okay._

* * *

Beverly knocked on the bedroom door, letting herself in even though he didn't say she could. She sat down beside him, grabbing his hand and stared at the wall beside him. "They aren't, and won't hurt him," She reassured Richie by squeezing his hand; he squeezed back in return sluggishly. They stayed like that for a few moments, before Richie said anything. Richie could never keep himself quiet.

"Please tell me what happened didn't happen," Richie chuckled, his eyes were glazed over and his face was pale and sweaty, "That like, I'm going to wake up and be thirteen again, Bev. That all of this- this stupid clown bullshit and Eddie- it's not real. Like, maybe I just ate some bad food or something, and I'm laying in bed. Or-or-or it's a fucking fevered dream," He finally looked at her, his eyes sparkled with hope and sadness, "Please?" 

Bev shook her head softly. "No, honey. I wish I could, but...it's not." His head drooped down, he slunk his gaze back to the wall, "You know, you and I are going to figure this out. Together, okay?" 

"I still love him," Richie sighed, "I don't think I can ever get rid of that. Even if it's not _him_ out there- I...I still love every fucking piece of him." 

"I know, honey," Bev's soothed in her motherly tone, "It's gonna be okay, okay?" 

"I don't...I believe it's him, Bev," Richie cried, "I think at least somewhere, Eddie's in there. He...he told me he loves me. Told me that this morning. Before...before I saw Its eyes glowing, before any of this bullshit. He loves me." 

"Richie..." 

"I know what you're going to say, and maybe you're right. Maybe I'm fucking delusional...maybe the clown just loves picking on me the most. But...to hear those words come out of Eddie's mouth...Beverly, I..." Richie closed his eyes, "I want to talk to him."

"Okay."

"Alone. Without you or the others around. I need to talk to him, privately."

"Richie."

"I need to."

"No," Beverly whispered, "I'm not letting It get into your head. You're already.."

"What, Beverly? Come on, say it. I'm already a fucking mess," Richie pulled his hand away from hers, "Well, that doesn't change the fact I want to fucking talk to him."

"I'm not letting you talk to him alone." Richie may be stubborn, but he knew Beverly was too. She would not back down from this, and he knew that. Maybe he'd settle for a compromise...

"Fine. But none of you can say shit or glare or any of your bullshit. Got it?" 

"Fine. But I swear to God, Richie if It-"

"Eddie won't let anything hurt me." _He loves me._

* * *

Beverly closed the door louder this time, sighing as she put her hand on her forehead. She looked at Eddie curiously, trying to see if he was him or...It. "Richie wants to talk to him," She stated loudly so even Eddie could hear. He turned to her, as shocked as everyone else was. Bill tried to reject that idea, but Beverly put her hand in his direction, "You know he'll just do it anyway if you tell him no. Besides, we're allowed to be there to make sure It won't hurt him...Just, we can't interrupt." 

"I can answer any of your guys' questions," Eddie piped up, "But, only if Richie is here. I can't...I can't really explain why right now, but please, just trust me." _I need to see him. I need him to look at me and fucking talk to me._

"How the hell can we trust you?" Ben sneered, but Eddie didn't care. 

"You just have to, okay?" He begged, "I promise I will tell you guys anything you want to know, just...I have to see him," He looked at Beverly, his eyes wet with tears. _He really does love him...or It really wants to fuck with us._

"Fine."

"Beverly-"

"Bill, just fucking trust me. If shit goes south, blame me." Beverly closed the door behind her. 


	24. Confessing To You.

Richie walked out of his bedroom with Beverly right beside him. He could barely look at Eddie, but he had to try. He had burning questions and he _needed_ to know. He could feel Eddie staring at him, yearning for him to make eye contact. Richie wouldn't...he _can't._ Not now, at least. He needed a fucking drink. He walked past Bill and Ben, stumbling his way into the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of Crown Royal Canadian whiskey and poured it into a small glass. Richie always liked his liquor dry-no ice, nothing but the straight alcohol itself. He took a long sip, swallowing the entire shot he just poured himself before pouring another. He walked into the living room, sitting right beside Eddie; he could hear the smaller man panic in his breathing, but Richie tried his best to ignore it. _No, he lied to you...he...It could be just playing mind games with you, Richie._ Eddie couldn't bear the silence any longer; his mind was going a mile a minute trying to find the best way to explain himself. He tapped his fingers on his knee, looking straight at Richie. _Say anything, please, Rich. Tell me how much you hate me or something reasonable. Tell me something, anything._

"Richie, please say something," Eddie finally spoke up, but his voice was weak and small. The tapping of his fingers drummed faster on his knee. Richie took a drink from his glass, setting it down slowly on the coffee table before he could even look at Eddie. "I'm so fucking-" 

"I want to know," Richie swallowed hard, grabbing Eddie's wrist, "I want to know everything. Cut the bullshit and the lies, Eddie. I want to know what happened after you died." He placed a hand on Eddie's knee, "Please. Just...no more lying, okay?" 

Eddie looked up at him, using his free hand to wipe the tears burning hot on his cheeks. "I woke up...in the Clubhouse. I saw...I saw Stanley."

"Bullshit," Bill scoffed.

"Bill, I swear I did. I promise I did...I-" He looked at Richie, who nodded his head slowly.

"I believe you," Richie whispered, "Keep going." 

"I was there...I really don't remember how long I was in there. Time moved so fucking slow, but...I remember...Stanley..." Eddie closed his eyes; he didn't want to tell everyone how he saw Richie sprawled on the bathroom floor with a fucking used needle in his arm. He couldn't...He just fucking couldn't. Is it lying if you skip over some parts of the truth? 

"What about Stanley?" Richie pressed, but not in a hostile manner. In a loving... _Richie_ like manner. "What about him, Eddie?" 

"He told me a way to get out..." Eddie bit his lip, "I climbed out of the treehouse, but he didn't follow me...I remember mist and..." _And you found me, Eddie. Tell him how much you begged me to get you back to him._

"And what?" Richie squeezed his knee. 

"I saw It...it had to be before you killed It, but I could see how powerless It was..." Eddie muttered, "It told me how to get back but...It told me that returning came with a price...Its _help_ came with a fucking price..." 

"Why?" Ben stammered, "Wh-why did you need to come back so badly?" He didn't mean for it to come out the way that it did, but it was a question that was intruding on everyone's minds. Even Richie, who looked at Eddie with his beautiful fucking brown eyes. Eddie looked down, unsure of how to answer. _Because I fucking saw how he died, Ben. Alone, in a fucking hotel room._

"I'd...I'd rather not answer it..." Eddie said weakly, feeling Richie tense up. Richie let go of Eddie's knee, but Eddie grabbed it. Richie looked at him, but his eyes were distant. He was distancing himself, so he wouldn't get hurt. Again. "Richie, trust me, but I just...I _can't_ tell you why I needed to come back. Please, just trust me." 

"I'm tired of trusting, Eds...I just..I don't think I _can_ anymore," Richie pulled his arm away, getting up quietly and walked back into his room. Eddie looked at Beverly, trying his best not to cry. He got up, knocked on Richie's bedroom door. 

"I'm sorry, Richie. I'm sorry for the fucking lying and shit, but I'm coming clean now. I can't...I can't tell you why I needed to come back, but just trust me...I did it for you."

The door swung open, causing Eddie to jump back a little. "So, the lying about not remembering how you woke up was for _me?!_ Really??? That's the best you can fucking come up with, Eddie? No...no the lies were to protect yourself, not me. I fucking trusted you."

"I know, Richie, and-"

"I fucking brought you back here thinking...I don't know what the fuck I was thinking, obviously. What was the fucking deal, huh? Kill all the fucking Losers just so you can get back to your pathetic wife," Richie jabbed Eddie hard in the chest, "Back to your pathetic house," another jab, "Back to your fucking mediocre job...for what? Just so you can be fucking miserable again? I swear to God-" 

"I _saw_ you fucking die, asshole!" Eddie pushed Richie back, causing him to stumble a little, "I fucking watched how you're going to fucking die, and I couldn't fucking stand it! I couldn't just let you fucking kill yourself because you needed a 'little' escape, Richie. I fucking came up here, so maybe I could fucking stop it. But fuck me, right?" Eddie pushed Bill out of his way as he opened the front door. 

"Where the fuck are you going!?" Richie called after him.

"Back to my fucking _pathetic_ life."   



	25. Bill's Day: 'Double Date'

_Eddie laid back in the hammock alone, waiting for the others to arrive soon. Sophomore year of high school was approaching rapidly, and Bill and his family were supposed to be moving in less than a week. Everyone was sad, but Stanley was taking the hit harder than everyone else. Eddie understood; Stanley and Bill have been conjoined at the hip since kindergarten. Bill was one of the only people who didn't make fun of Stanley being Jewish and Stanley never questioned Bill's stutter. They both just...understood each other right away. However, Richie and Eddie's relationship was never like that. Eddie remembered meeting Richie at Stanley's birthday party; Bill had asked if he could invite his friend to the party to feel more comfortable. Stanley obliged, saying, "The more, the merrier." Eddie was the first person to arrive besides Stanley, helping his parents and the birthday boy with the decorations; Bill and Richie were one of the last ones to arrive, due to Richie's inability to keep track of time. Even at a young age, Richie was always late. Eddie was the one who opened the door, which made Richie's eyes widened. "YOU DIDN'T TELL ME STANLEY WAS SO SHORT!!!"_

_Eddie turned the page of his new Spiderman comic he just recently bought. He couldn't concentrate for long, however, because he could hear Stanley and Richie arguing about God knows what. "For the thousandth time Richie, it would literally be impossible." Stanley sighed as he climbed down the ladder. Bill followed him, rolling his eyes as Richie shouted something about Stanley's mom. "When are you going to grow out of the 'your mom' phase? You're almost fifteen years old; act like it."_

_"Come on Stanley, you love those jokes! They're the best!" Richie protested as he hopped down. He walked over to Eddie and plopped beside him in the hammock; he quickly grabbed the comic out of the shorter boy's hands, causing Eddie to sigh and reach for it._

_"If you think they're the best Richie, then I am so sorry for you and your future 'comedic' career," Stanley teased back, sitting on the swing, "Does anyone know if Mike's coming today?"_

_"N-nuh-no. He h-had to f-fuh-finish chores at the f-fuh-farm," Bill stated as he sat on the ground. Eddie pushed at Richie to give him back his comic, but Richie only chuckled in response._

_"So gentlemen," Richie smiled, grabbing a cigarette and a lighter out of his pocket, "What are the plans for today?" He lit his cigarette while waiting for someone to offer to do something. It was one of the last few days of summer in Derry, and to sit around in the Clubhouse would be a waste to summer. "Are we going to the Quarry? The arcade? The diner? Just a ride around town? How about...Billy Boy's choosing? Since we'll miss your ugly face in a few days." Bill smiled, thinking about what he wanted to do. "Take your time, Billiam, just don't take the whole day," Richie joked._

_"Wh-What ab-about we go to the d-diner f-fuh-first? I'm s-sta-stuh-starved." Bill smiled, getting up first. Richie puffed on his cigarette, which Eddie coughed in disgust._

_"That's an excellent idea, Billy-boy," Richie said, after blowing smoke into Eddie's face._

_"Can you fucking not, Richie?" Eddie growled as he got up, trying to yank his comic back from Richie's grasp, but failed. "You know smoking is fucking disgusting and unhealthy, so can you go-" Richie interrupted him by blowing another puff of smoke towards his direction._

_"What was that, Eddie Spaghetti?"_

_"Fuck you and your dumb fucking nicknames."_

_"Can you two just kiss and make up already? Bill and I are hungry and we don't want to sit here and hear you guys bitch and moan the whole day," Stanley rolled his eyes, climbing the ladder to get out of the Clubhouse._

_"Tell him to give me back my fucking new comic book then!"_

_"Only if you say you love my nicknames, Eds!"_

_"Fuck you."_

* * *

_There was a little diner near the outskirts of Derry that all the Losers used to visit to during the summers; they've stopped biking there that much since Beverly and Ben left, but it was still a nice thing to do on a nice, late-August day. They got there around noon, walking inside to their favorite booth in the corner near a pinball machine. Richie muttered about ordering him a Pepsi before rushing over to the pinball machine. Eddie followed after, reasoning himself because he wanted his fucking comic book back that was in Richie's backpack._

_"Hi boys!" A blonde older waitress walked up to the booth where Stanley and Bill were sitting. "What can I git y'all to drink?" She looked to Stanley first, who ordered Richie's Pepsi and Eddie's water before ordering himself an iced sweet tea. Bill managed to order his water without stuttering as much, which Stanley smile at him proudly. "Those therapy sessions are workin' really well for ya Bill," The older woman smiled before making her way into the kitchen. Bill blushed a deep red before turning himself into the menu._

_"Are you going to continue therapy appointments? When you move?" Stanley asked, watching Richie and Eddie argue about how Richie 'so fucking did' cheat. Bill shrugged._

_"I d-don't know. I d-don't want to s-s-start over ag-ag-again with an-another person," Bill looked at Stanley, "My m-m-mom w-wuh-won't take me back to D-D-Derry even though it's on-on-only a two-hour d-druh-drive."_

_"I'm guessing you won't visit much then." Stanley looked down, trying not to frown, "Promise you'll write Bill? And call? I better hear that damn stutter of yours everyday." He joked, making Bill laugh._

_"Of c-c-course," He smiled and thanked the waitress who brought the drinks._

_"Need time to order?"_

_"Yeah, our friends still haven't finished the pinball game," Stanley rolled his eyes at the two boys arguing by the machine._

_"Fellas?" The blonde waitress called out to the two boys, who blushed and walked back to the booth. Well, Richie more so smiled and said hello to Barbara instead of feeling embarrassed._

_"How's it hanging, Babs?" Richie smiled as he sat down next to Eddie, who had her hands on her hips jokingly. "We're gonna need like two more minutes to order if that's okay."_

_"Well," She sighed in a joking manner, "Anything for you babydoll. But ya better have something in mind in two minutes."_

_"Yes, ma'am!" He saluted her, making her giggle as she walked toward another table. Richie and Barbara would always joke like this when they went to the diner, even when it was just him and Eddie sometimes. Or him and Connor. After the accident, Richie has found himself splitting his time between hanging out with Connor Bowers or the other Losers. He wanted to tell the others, but for some reason, he could never bring himself to do it. He felt that Eddie would get mad, but he couldn't really tell why he would think that._

_"Can I please have my fucking comic book, Richie?" Eddie said, breaking Richie's focus on trying to pick out what he wanted (as if he wasn't going to order chicken fingers and fries once again). "I just bought it and I don't want you dog-earing the fucking pages."_

_"How else am I supposed to remember where my spot is?"_

_"You could literally do anything else but dog-ear the fucking pages, Richie!" Eddie sighed, burying his face into his hands. He got up when Barbara coughed, tapping her pencil against her little writing pad._

_"What can I fix up for you boys?"_

_"Can I get a chicken sandwich without cheese? oh, and fries, please," Stanley went first because he was really fucking hungry and wasn't going to waste any more time._

_"Did you pick something yet, Mr. Tozier?" Barbara chuckled, looking at the kid scan the menu frantically._

_"Uh.....jeez there's just so many delicious options, Babs...Give me...."_

_"Give him the chicken fingers and fries." Eddie elbows Richie's ribs, annoyed by the long-running joke. "Can you quit? We're all really hungry here, Richie," He whispered to the taller kid, who just flashed Babs a smile._

_"I guess it's been decided for me. Give me the chicken fingers and fries, Babsie." Barbara smiled as she wrote his order down, then turned her head to Eddie._

_"Small salad and a small plate of fries, please," Eddie smiled up at Barbara. Richie gave him a look, but didn't want to press on it. He knows Eddie would say something like 'I'm fifteen, Richie. I have to start taking care of my body at some point in my life.' 'Yeah, but that doesn't mean you have to eat like an old woman!' 'I do not!'_

_"For you, Bill?"_

_"C-c-can I get a cheese-b-buh-burger with o-o-on-onion r-ruh-ruh-rings," Bill managed to spit out, "E-ext-extra cheese, p-pl-please." Barbara gave him a thumbs up before she dashed her way to tend to her other tables. Richie pulled the Spiderman comic out of his bag, trying to read it and keeping it out of Eddie's grasps. Bill smiled at the two. Even though they always argued with each other and got on everyone's nerves, Bill was going to miss it. And Stanley was going to miss Bill more._

_"I'm g-guh-guh-gonna m-m-miss this," Bill commented, taking a sip of his drink. Stanley gave him a look._

_"You're going to miss them constantly arguing all the time? All the time??" Stanley joked, "You do remember how we couldn't go see that movie last week because they got into one of their spats, right?"_

_"Yeah," Bill said, "B-b-but w-wuh-we did have f-fuh-fun sne-sneaking ba-buh-back in, though," Bill flashed Stanley a smile._

_"Yeah, and then Trashmouth here blew our fucking cover," Eddie chimed in, pushing Richie one last time to try and make him give him his Spiderman comic back. It didn't work._

_"Not my fault. You guys wanted to see that only movie Mike and I saw that week before," Richie smiled. Silence came across the group, but it wasn't terrible. They were all going to miss Bill, and too afraid to admit their fears of the Loser Club breaking up without him. Would he actually write? Would he actually call?_

_Whatever, it didn't matter now. They made a promise to each other to not think like that after Ben and Beverly; to just live in the present. It was one of the last days they had with Bill and they weren't going to let sadness get in their way of having fun. No problems, just fun and goofing off. At least, that's what Eddie thought before the door swung open and showed a taller, blonde curly-haired boy. Connor Bowers.  
_


	26. Stan's Day: "Only the Best for Bill"

_"Hey dickhead!" Connor flashed a smile at Richie who waved him over. "Long time no see. Haven't seen you at the arcade in what...two days?" Richie chuckled. Eddie frowned. Stanley looked at Bill, hoping maybe he'd know who this kid is. Bill just shrugged, unsure. "What are you up to?" He asked Richie who squeezed a little closer by Eddie to make room for Connor._

_"Just trying to give Buffalo Bill here a proper sendoff," Richie joked back, leaning his arm against the table in an attempt to ruffle through Bill's hair, "What are you doing here? You told me you didn't like diner food." Eddie continued to watch their conversation, wondering when the hell they talked about diner food if all they did was play at the arcade together. Connor looked down, a smile creeping on his face when he saw the comic book._

_"Is that the new Spiderman comic? Dude, I've been trying to get my hands on that! How the hell did you save up your money before me to buy it?"_

_"He didn't.' It's mine," Eddie interrupted as he proceeded to grab it from Richie and failed once again._

_"Yeah, Richie couldn't save up for jack shit even if his life depended on him," Stanley teased as Richie made a face at him._

_"I do not waste my money. I invest."_

_"Yeah, on cigarettes, arcade tokens, and p-pluh-playboy magazines," Bill chimed in, making both Connor and Stanley laugh. "It's nice to m-muh-meet you..."_

_"Connor." The boy stuck his hand out and shook Bill's, "Richie always talks about you guys, almost never shuts up about all of you."_

_"He can't ever shut up period," Stanley chuckled, looking over at Eddie who was still frowning and trying to reach his comic book. "But it's nice to meet you, Connor. I'd say Richie has talked about you, but I haven't heard of you." He looked over at Richie, who was smiling at Connor._

_"Yeah, not gonna lie...he hasn't said jackshit about you," Eddie frowned as Richie smacked his arm, "What? I'm being honest, asshole," Connor looked over at Eddie as he continued, "I mean, all I remember is you being with those fucking bullies. Aren't you Henry Bowers' cousin?" Everyone got quiet as they turned to Connor. He bit his lip, looking down, and Richie touched his arm gently in support._

_"Yeah. My parents moved to help take care of him since his dad died and he's in a mental ward...They wanted to move him closer to us, but he's not well enough yet," Connor nodded solemnly, "Hey, I gotta go Rich, but I'll see you later, okay? Friday? Play some Street Fighter or something?" Richie flashed him a grin, chuckling at their own little joke. Since when did Richie have inside jokes with Connor fucking Bowers? "Nice meeting you guys. Bye, Rich," Connor waved off before meeting up with two other guys. They looked to be around Connor's age, but maybe a year or two older. 'They look like hoodlums' Eddie could hear his mother whine._

_"Bye Con!" Richie eagerly waved back before looking back at his friends. "He hangs out at the arcade sometimes and we play Street Fighter together."_

_"You play Street Fighter with Henry Bowers' cousin?" Stanley arched one of his eyebrows._

_"Yeah, but he's not like that," Eddie could hear Richie's voice soften, "He's actually cool," Eddie grumbled something, but Richie didn't pay him any mind. He was too busy taking a sip of his drink and unintentionally staring at Connor, who was sitting far across the diner with his friends. "I think you'd guys enjoy him. Want me to see if he and his friends want to eat with us?"_

_"No." Eddie stammered out first, which made all of his friends' eyes turn to him, "It's Bill's last day, can't we just spend it with him? Why are you always trying to ruin shit, Richie?"_

_"Jesus, fuck me, then," Richie's joke fell flat, but he didn't really care. "Thought I'd show Bill here what cool was before he left."_

_"I-I-I w-wuh-wouldn't mind," Bill opened his fucking mouth, which made Eddie death glare at him and Richie's eyes light up. "Y-yuh-you could invite him." Stanley kicked Eddie to get him to stop pouting, which only made him furious even more._

_"I wouldn't care either, Richie," Stanley said, looking straight at Eddie. When Richie wasn't looking, he mouthed to Eddie to 'Be nice'. It's just a friend. It's Richie's friend...his friend who is related to fucking Henry fucking Bowers. "Maybe you can invite him to go swimming down by the Quarry with us."_

_"Stan the Man! That head always filled with great fucking ideas?" Richie scruffled Stanley's curls, who jokingly shoved him in response._

_"Fucking always. You should know this by now." Bill chuckled at Stanley's comment, putting a hand on Stanley's shoulder as he laughed. Stanley chuckled too, turning away to stop himself from blushing. Today was Big Bill's day, and there was no way Stanley would let that fucker leave without a smile on his face._


	27. Typical Marital Problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Yes, I am finishing this! I have the ending all mapped out; I just have very little time to write. I am excited to finish this story and I hope you guys enjoy it!

Eddie bounced his leg the entire taxi ride from the airport back to his home. Back where Myra and he had lived...where they resided and were content with living miserably. He didn't want to think about what has been happening, but his mind swirled with all kinds of thoughts. He really wanted to talk to Richie, but it was clear Richie didn't look at him the way he used to. Maybe, if Eddie stayed away for a while, he could sort whatever the fuck is happening out without hurting anyone. All Eddie wanted was to make sure no one got hurt because of his stupid mistake. It wasn't happy with Eddie's decision, he could feel It twist inside him, filling him up with pain. _It's like I fade out. Like I'm a puppet that's controlled by It. When It wants to take control, It stabs Its claw-like fingers inside my entity: then I feel nothing. It's like I don't exist....not physically nor spiritually. Like my entity is being erased._

"Are you gonna get out or what?" The taxi driver interrupted Eddie's train of thought, and he realized he was finally home. Eddie smiled politely, paid the fare, and got out, wringing his hands nervously in his pockets. He didn't want to go in, give an explanation for why he's been gone for so long. _My face is probably on a fucking milk carton by now. Or she died of a broken heart....from all the pain and grief I gave her._ The thought of talking to her made Eddie want to have a heart attack and curl up and die.

Thank God Myra wasn't home, and that she still left the spare key underneath the mat. _**Their** mat. _Eddie walked slowly and cautiously through their old home. Much like his mother and Eddie himself, Myra was a germophobe and dreaded the thought of living in New York City. However, Eddie knew he couldn't pass up the money the firm first offered him and the benefits, so the couple settled on living in a small and clean suburb just a half an hour out of the city. It was a tiny and quaint three-bedroom home, with a small backyard that Myra absolutely needed. _For our kids someday, She said smiling and placing his hands on her stomach._

Eddie looked at all of Myra's knickknacks (snowglobes and little teacups) throughout the living room. In the kitchen, there was a mug left on the counter, with half of it still filled with what appeared to be tea. Little red lipstick was stained on one side of the mug's rim. _Myra's still living here. It's her favorite shade of red; the shade she always wears._ Eddie picks up the mug, fondly remembering the day she brought it home. _Look honey! It has the I love New York logo!_ "It's tacky, Myra," He frowned. He shouldn't have been that hard on her. It wasn't her fault he chose her to replace his mother. 

"Eddie?' Another voice snapped him out of his daydream. He turned around to see her. She did not look the same as he had when he left. Her eyes filled to the brim of tears, but instead of running into his arms like she wanted to, she stayed firm. She was waiting for an explanation that Eddie couldn't give to her.

"Hi Myra." Eddie took a step closer, but Myra took a step back, "Listen, My, I'm so-"

"I thought you were dead. You never called or texted and then I get a call from a guy named Bill saying you were dead!" She cried out hysterically, "For Christ sakes Eddie what the fuck happened! I had to have a funeral for you... _mourn_ for you..." There was a long drift of silence. "Jesus, say something!"

"It's...really hard to explain," Eddie gulped, trying to keep his temperament, "I'm so sorry, Myra."

"Is there someone else?' Myra couldn't look at him. She tugged her black robe around her body tighter. "You know the first time I met your mother....she told me. She told me about you liking a certain _boy_ so-"

"What are you asking?" Eddie narrowed his eyes, feeling his chest tighten up. He could feel himself slipping out of control...he could feel the claws tightening around his soul. Myra paused, trying to think of a way to ask such a question as polite as she could. 

"She told me how he would climb into your window and spend the night....how when you moved away he would write so many lettters...an _unhealthy_ amount of letters a _friend_ would write to another." 

"He wrote to me when I moved?" The idea that his mom kept him from remembering Richie made Eddie go over the edge. He felt the darkness captivate him and heard Its voice come out of his mouth. Myra jumped back after seeing Eddie's eyes turn a yellowish hue. 

"Eddie?"

"Yes. Myra. I am a flaming homosexual." 'Eddie' smirked, "The fun fact: I never loved you. I mean...if you'd lose some fucking weight and got a pixie cut...maybe. But..." It flashed a grin showing sharp teeth. Myra gasped, backing away from the creature. "Myra, Myra. Why didn't you believe your father when he told you you were unlovable? That you would... _will_ die alone."

"You're not my Eddie." 

"You're a miserable pig...worthless." He spat at her, lunging forward. Myra screaming brought Eddie back to reality. He was on the floor, looking at the blood he just wiped from his nose. He looked up to see him.

* * *

Myra ran to the phone but Richie grabbed it out of her hands. She whimpered, scared for her life. Eddie would know....he can sense how afraid she is. The smell of her fear made it almost impossible for 'Eddie' to want to rip her apart and eat her heart. 

"Let me take him. We can forget all of this." Richie looked at her, "Please. I just want to fix him....then you can have him...the _real_ him again." Myra reluctantly nodded, not taking her eyes off of the demon of her husband. "Come on Eds." Richie helped Eddie up and they walked to a silver rental car. Once they got into the car, Eddie felt like crying. _I almost murdered my wife._

"I'm sorry." Eddie looked outside the window. "I just....didn't know what else to do.....I don't know what's wrong with me Richie....I don't want to hurt you." Stunned, he looked and saw the other's hand rest on his knee. Eddie grabbed it, tracing his thumb against Richie's backside of his hand. 

Richie pulled over and looked over at Eddie. "We're in this together, okay? Just....don't leave me like that again. I'm sorry for what I said. I just...don't want you to ever leave again." Richie kissed his lover's forehead, then his cheek, and stopped before going to his lips. Eddie looked up at him. 

"I don't know how to stop It taking over me. It's....It's apart of me, Rich. We need to-"

"No." Richie squeezed his knee, "There's another way. There has to be." 

"We don't know anything about It..." Eddie whispered.

"Mike does. He has a library full of shit in Derry, remember? We go there and we read up on what we can and fix this," He turned Eddie's head so they would both meet each others' gaze. "We are going to fix this and then you....well you can decide what you want. I just....I know I can't live without you...even if we aren't-"

Eddie pulled Richie in, kissing him. Once they parted, he whispered, "I want you. I promise. If it wasn't for that stupid curse, I would have had more time with you." Richie smiled, a hollow one but Eddie marked it as progress. "I swear if we fix this, I will spend the rest of my life making all of this up to you." 

"Not if, when." Richie flashed a grin before getting the car back on the road.


	28. You Can't Ignore What Happened Between Us

* * *

_first letter:_

~~_Dear_ ~~ _Eddie,_

_Hey. I told you I would write after you left, didn't I? I bet you didn't expect I'd write this the day after you moved, but I figured you wanted some news about the other losers. Well to start it off: Bev and Ben still haven't written or visited. I think they're just glad to have moved away. Bill told us (the other losers) that his dad got a new job in Chicago. So they're moving too. It's good for him. I'm glad that he can get out of this shithole like you and bev and ben. I just hate the feeling that he's going to forget to write or come visit as well. ~~You're going to, right? I mean you did promise me.~~ Anyway, stan's still doing his dumb birdwatching thing and mike started a part-time job at the old stinking library. So, thanks for leaving me with all the nerds. Not that you aren't a nerd but... I miss making fun of you. I think this is all I'm gonna write for now. I know it's lame, but not much happens in Derry anymore. I better hear from you soon._

_Richie._

* * *

The car ride back to Maine was unbearably long and silent, with only a few times to stop for gas. Richie drove the whole way, and by the fourth hour, he was exhausted. But he couldn't trust himself to shut his eyes or even rest; his mind would race to what Eddie is...what he has become. Eddie was exhausted as well, but he didn't want to keep his guard down. It was best to be alert when he felt _it_ inside of him, waiting for him to be vulnerable. There was only one hour left of the car ride when Eddie did decide to speak. 

"I'm sorry." He almost whispered while tapping his hands on his knees, "I should have listened to Stan." 

"You talked to Stan?" Richie asked, keeping his eyes focused on the road. _At least he's talking to me, right? That's a good sign. Right?_

"Yeah. It was weird. It was just like how he looked when we were kids, man," Eddie smiled, "Still acted the same too." 

"God, I miss him so much," Richie smiled back tearfully, "After...everything went down, we all visited Patty. She's so sweet. She helped me out for a bit, actually." _'Richie Tozier. You know....Stan and I would watch your standup specials and even if he wouldn't admit it, I saw him smirk every now and again.'_

"I wish I could have met her...I should have kept in touch," Eddie frowned, nervously drumming his fingers against the denim fabric of his jeans. Eddie looked at the taller man, who didn't return Eddie's gaze. Instead, Rich kept his eyes focused on the road, trying not to _engage It._ Once again, silence overtook the two's conversation, with the only noises of raindrops softly colliding and crashing onto the windows of the car and with Eddie's rhythmic drumming. _Please talk to me, Richie._

* * *

_Letter 4_

_Eduardo,_

_hey. how are things going? I wish I could ask other questions but it seems like you've forgotten to write. Maybe you're busy settling in? I'm gonna assume so because you don't break promises haha. Um, I've got some news about our fellow folk in Derry! Mikey is doing surprisingly well at his new part-time job! So much so that he's rarely around the clubhouse. That's okay. Both Stan and I are really proud of him. (At least I still have Stan to badger constantly 24/7). Anyway, I just wanted to say ~~I~~ we miss you. Come visit soon, okay?_

_Richie._

* * *

The two decided to stay at Mike's place while sorting through his research, due to the fact that there were stacks and stacks of books, newspaper clippings, and articles. "It's not like Mike is here anyhow," Richie said as he moved a stack closer to the almond colored couch. As he plopped down, Eddie walked back into the room with two mugs filled with coffee: one black for Richie and one with exactly two teaspoons of sugar and a dash of milk for himself. 

"Where are the others, anyway?" Eddie plopped himself beside Richie, who grabbed his coffee and blew on the lid in order to not burn the roof of his mouth. "Do they know you-"

"No. No, they wouldn't...allow it if they knew," Richie chuckled somberly, "I only left a note for Bev so she wouldn't be worried sick." He grabbed the first paper from the stack, an old newspaper clipping that discussed the Markson's murder in 1851. Eddie only nodded in response. 

"Hey, Richie?" Eddie spoke as he placed his mug down, "What if we can't...find another way?" 

"We will."

"But what if we don't?" Eddie pressed further, "I mean...we _have_ to think of that option and...if it comes down to it-" 

"We. _Will_." Richie looked over to the brunette, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tightly, "We're gonna find a way, Eds. We have to find a way." Eddie nodded, knowing not to push it further. It didn't stop him from thinking about it, however.

* * *

_Letter 7_

_Eds,_

_Hey. I know you still haven't written a letter, but there really isn't anyone else I'd rather talk to than you. Are you mad at me because of what happened right before you left? I'm sorry. ~~I didn't mean to~~ actually, I did mean to. I'm sorry if you don't feel the same way and I caught you by surprise, but I can't say that if I could redo it over again, that I wouldn't kiss you. I would. Over and over again. You can call me whatever the hell you want- a fairy, a faggot, whatever. it's not like I haven't heard it before. And if you don't feel the same way, I'd understand. But you can't just ignore me, Eds. We've been best friends for so long. I just get nervous being around you and the thought of you not accepting me ~~is just~~ breaks my heart. I mean, after what we talked about? You can't tell me you're like these assholes in Derry, Eds. I wouldn't have kissed you if you didn't tell me about those things. Please, just write. or visit. or do something. I want to talk about this. I'd get it if you didn't want to be friends, but you can't just pretend that I don't exist. Please, Eddie. You can't ignore what happened between us. _

_Richie._

* * *

The clock was nearing midnight as the two worked tirelessly. Mugs and beer bottles were askew in the already messy living room, stacks that were already reviewed were dumped in a small corner near the grand bookcase. Richie was on his fourth beer, while Eddie was on his second. Other than small glances at the other, there was no other communication happening. And it was killing Eddie inside. He finally managed to have the courage after his third beer, carefully grabbing the small, neatly folded piece of paper out of his pocket and began to unwrinkle the creases on its edges. 

"Hey, Rich? Do you remember writing...to me?" Eddie said, his focus still on the folded piece of paper. He trailed his thumb along the words written on the outside of the paper: _Eds._

"Vaguely," Richie didn't look up from the article he was reading. He wanted to find a way to save his best friend and he felt like time was running out. _Let me just save you, Eddie. Like how I should have done before. Let me save you, please._ "But Mike and I wrote everyone letters...we stopped after doing it for a few months because we never got a reply back." _Because we all forgot about this shitty town thanks to the shitty curse._

"My mom kept mine away from me," Eddie admitted, "I don't know if she remembered the town and you guys and wanted me to forget or perhaps because she _forgot_ but," he placed the paper in Richie's lap, "I remember getting this one. It was my sophomore year in NYU and I could not for the life of me figure out who it was....until now." Richie stared at the piece and then back at Eddie. "If I remembered it was from _you_ , Rich, I swear I would have written back or at least tried to find you. I sure as hell would have not married Myra if I remembered." 

"It's funny," Richie chuckled as he inspected the piece of paper, "Before now, I didn't remember writing this. It was after my dad kicked me out and Mike told me that you were in New York." He handed the paper back to Eddie, "But, as soon as I got there, I couldn't remember... _why_ I came. I just sort of...threw it in the mailbox and got a job at a comedy club." Richie went to get up, but Eddie grabbed his wrist. 

"A small part of me knew this was important, so I kept it in our old lockbox," Eddie smiled sheepishly, "There was a small part of me that remembered you, Rich. I felt so empty because of.... _that void in my life, you, weren't in it_. And I'm so...so sorry that I hurt you by coming back here. I just...was selfish." 

"You said you saw me die...how?" Richie swallowed, trying to believe him. _You can, believe me, Rich._

"Drug overdose," Eddie said softly. He has a right to know, Eddie thought. "It was...because of what happened...I couldn't bear seeing how much pain you were in."

"I haven't touched anything since-"

"I know...you did-er do it a year and a half later." Silence once again filled the air, either of the men not knowing what to say or do. Richie was the first to speak.

"You were trying to save me from...me," Richie smiled, "Because of my dumbassery." 

"Because of your dumbassery," Eddie repeated, returning Richie's smile with a small smirk, "And if you ever, and I mean EVER, try to do something as stupid as that-"

Eddie was interrupted as Richie's lips clashed with his. He could feel the tickle of Richie's beard but he didn't care. It felt right. For once in Eddie's life, something felt right. 


	29. While the Sun Rises, Let's Go Bird Watching

* * *

_"Guys!'" Stanley huffed, trying to catch his breath after catching up to his friends. Richie was pestering Eddie about the new fanny pack his mother bought him for Christmas and Bill was watching the amusing quarrel as they walked to school. Being it be after Holiday break, the four eight-year-olds trekked onward to their elementary school in wool-skin winter jackets, snow pants, and snow boots. Stanley grabbed from his backpack a brown leather-bound book and another book titled_ _Intro to Bird-Watching_. _"Look at this! These are my favorite Hannukah presents!"_

_"Books? That's kinda gay, Stan the Man," Richie spit a gap-tooth grin at the curly-haired kid. Stan rolled his eyes and looked up at Bill._

_"Shut up Richie. You've never read a book in your life,'" Eddie chimed in, pushing the clumsy oaf._

_"Maybe we could all go bird watching together?" Stan asked._

_"I would, but my mommy says birds are filled with diseases," Eddie said before Richie pushed him back jokingly._

_"I would, too, Stannie, but I don't want to." Richie chuckled._

_"T-T-That w-wuh-wuh-would be f-fun, Stan," Bill smiled at Stan, who lit up and smiled. Secretly, Stan only wanted Bill to go with him. Not that he doesn't like Eddie or Richie, but because Bill knows how to be quiet. How to soak in his surroundings and watch. Observe. He only felt such a connection with Bill. They didn't need to talk to know how the other was feeling. They could just feel it themselves. 'It's our b-buh-b-best f-friend b-b-bond' Bill once joked._

* * *

The night Richie decided to sneak out of his own home, without the other Losers' knowledge or consent, to rescue Eddie was the same night Bill encountered _him._ Around three in the morning, with the rest of the gang sleeping (except, of course, Richie, who was waiting at the LAX airport to catch the next flight to New York), Bill was laying on the couch trying to get some sleep. He tossed and turned and couldn't able his body to drift off, hence the word trying. His mind was processing a thousand thoughts per minute: Audra's insisting text messages about his film he abandoned to help Rich, his editor's emails urging him to write another book despite being exhausted and having already launched a novel this year, and, of course, Stanley. Every time he was about to drift off, Stanley appeared in his mind. Him and his letter. A lot of emotions were building up inside Bill because of it; angered that this was the last communication he will ever have with Stan, saddened that he believed that was his only option. The biggest emotion that swelled up inside Bill, however, was guilt. _If only I knew...If only I was there before he could._

Finally quitting on the idea that he would be able to sleep, Bill decided to put on a kettle and brew some green tea. He stood by the stove, in a black athletic shirt and grey sweatpants, placing his hands on his forehead to try and reduce his headache. The kettle whistled, causing Bill to jump. He's been nervous and anxious ever since getting Mike's call. He grabbed the pot and placed a tea bag in the hot water, trailing his thumb on the rim of the mug. While in the process of trying to make a list of all that needs to be done with 'Eddie', Bill heard a faint knock coming from outside the door. Instantly, he tried to shake it out of his memory. _It's not real, Bill. Get a hold of yourself._ He let the tensions out of his shoulders cease, his eyes turning back to his tea. He glanced at his watch: 3:02. It's going to be a long night, he thought to himself. 

His ears pricked up at another, slightly louder knock.

* * *

_"Hello, Stanley," Mrs. Denbrough smiled as she opened the door for the upbeat ten-year-old. His yarmulke sat perfectly on top of his disarray of blonde curls._

_"Hello, Mrs. Denbrough. Is Bill home?" Stanley asked, hesitant to come in. Due to his politeness and maturity, Stanley was all of his friends' parents' favorite; even Mrs. Kaspbrak didn't think he was that horrid for a person of his nature. Despite her antisemitism, Stanley continued to charm her and almost all the parents in Derry. He was the epitome of a well-behaved child. Only because he was always cautious, always nervous, always...Stanley. _

_"Yes. Come in, I'll fetch him." Stanley watched as she disappeared up the stairs. He was nervous to sit, so he patiently stood by the kitchen counter. He had his backpack on that carried his new journal and bird-watching book. Now that winter is over, it is the perfect time to observe migration patterns. He watched Bill skip down the stairs, running towards Stanley._

_"R-r-ready?" Bill smiled, as excited as Stan was, who nodded in response. Grabbing Stan's wrist, they raced to their bikes, after saying good-bye to Mrs. Denbrough, of course. It was a little nippy outside, so she insisted her son wear a jacket and to offer his friend to wear one of his. It was a tad longer on Stanley, but he didn't mind. Little did he know he'd hit a growth spurt and be taller than Bill by half an inch._

_They got to the Barracks rather quickly due to Stanley's excitement. He's been bird-watching for a while, but it's been rather lonely. Bill came behind him, stopping his bike and catching his breath. Stanley parked his bike neatly beside Bill's as they trekked onward into the woods. "Come on, Bill," Stan giggled as he grabbed the other boy's wrist._

* * *

Bill peeked outside the window before going towards the door; nothing out of the ordinary seemed to be outside, it just looked like an ordinary Los Angeles night. _Could be one of Richie's fans._ Bill rationally thought, walking slowly back over to the kitchen with his eyes locked on the door. Moments passed by and as Bill began to feel safer, he sunk his focus back on his tea, taking a small sip. He moved himself and his mug over to the couch, sitting down neatly and drinking more of his tea. _It's the deprivation of sleep. it's making me crazy_. To ease his mind more, he got up to check on his friends when he heard the knock again. This time, a second one also came along with it. 

"Whoever is out there, I'll call the police," Bill growled as he moved closer to the door. He didn't want to open it but felt necessary to do so to comfort his sanity. When he opened it and peered outside, he again saw nothing but the stars and lights coming from the city down below the hill Richie's home resided on. Bill sighed and shut the door, pushing his hair back with his hands and laying back down on the couch. A light knock happened once more, making Bill groan and rush over to the door. He opened it quickly, only to be rushed by a warm and comforting presence. It was a small gust of wind, Bill felt it racing throughout the home. Looking for something or _someone_. Bill picked up a knife from the kitchen and held it out in front of him as he looked for the presence. He found it in Richie's room. It was hard to see, but it was a silhouette of a familiar man. Bill kept his guard up, keeping the knife close to him as he walked in the room to investigate. As soon as he stepped in, the door slammed shut and the silhouette appeared to look at him. Studying him. Observing him. It wasn't uncomfortable, however. It felt...familiar. Too familiar. Bill thought as he dropped the knife.

* * *

_Stanley nervously rubbed his hands together before climbing. He knew he should have knocked, but he didn't want to disturb Mr. and Mrs. Denbrough. Not after what they've been through. Besides, after Georgie's disappearance, they haven't really paid attention to Bill and probably wouldn't know if he was home or not. And probably wouldn't bother to check. Stan heaved himself up on the roof using the rain gutter as a handmade ladder. He knocked faintly once on Bill's window after seeing the brunette lying in his bed. Bill didn't hear or rather pretended not to hear. He wanted to be alone, even though he underestimated Stanley's persistence._ _Stanley knocked two more times before deciding to give up. Bill didn't move during those two times._

_"Damn it, Bill," Stan cursed underneath his breath before turning his back on the window. He pressed his back to it and sighed before it opened, causing him to fall backward in the room. Two hands, Bill's, caught him and let him in the room. "Why didn't you open the first time?" Stan pouted._

_"I w-wuh-wuh-want to b-b-b-e a-a-a" Bill frustratedly put his hands in the air before stomping back to his bed. Stan walked over and sat down beside him. "G-g-g-g-"_

_"No." Stan said blatantly, "I'm not going away, Bill." Stan firmly placed his hand on Bill's back, who was now weeping._

_"'ts m-muh-my f-f-f-"_

_"It's not." Stan whispered, continuing to hug him, "It's not your fault, Bill." They stayed in this position, with Bill's head in Stan's lap as he cried, for almost an hour. Bill wiped the tears away, looking out at the newly formed sunset out his window. Stan saw this and whispered, "It's beautiful."_

_"I-i-it i-i-is," Bill stumbled to the window in awe of nature's beauty. "S-st-stan?"_

_"Yes, Bill?" Stan walked and stood behind the taller boy._

_"W-w-want-t-to g-g-guh...go b-bird w-wuh-wuh-wuh-watching?" Bill sighed at the frustration over his stutter. It definitely did get worse after Georgie's disappearance, Stan noted. He placed his smaller hand on Bill's shoulder reassuringly._

_"Sure, Bill." I'd do anything with you._

* * *

"Stan?" Bill whispered to the figure, and as he did so the shadowy figure moved quickly towards him. Now that the two were closer, he could see faintly of Stanley. An adult Stanley...the one Bill never got to know. He only saw a picture of him at the funeral. He felt the unfamiliar man put its hand on his shoulder. Gently, the shadow grazed Bill's cheek, causing him to shudder at the jolt of its touch. Warm, comforting energy surrounded Bill as he went to hug Stan, who, in response, stumbled back and disappeared.

"Stan?" Bill said, frantically searching with his eyes around the room, "Stan, please c-c-come back." He looked at the open window, staring at the curtains blowing from the outside wind. He held back tears as he looked at the newly formed sunset unveiling itself in the sky. The red vibrant hues made Bill want to cry even more but was again comforted by a firm squeeze on his shoulder. He turned around and saw Stanley standing beside Richie's bedside table. Bill cautiously walked over to the man, who vanished as Bill went to take Stan's wrist. He sighed, looking at the table. There were a pen and a blank piece of paper.

"W-what are y-yuh-you t-trying to say, Stan?" Bill asked to no one in particular but was responded by an energetic bolt of energy soaring in his hand. It was like he couldn't control it as Bill wrote. However, he wasn't alarmed. He was more so...relaxed. Bill's heart started to break as he could feel the energy disappearing from him and his hand.

"S-stan w-wuh-wait! Please...s...stay," Bill grabbed the shoulder the spirit touched before reading what he wrote. "Please stay, Stan." 

_Eddie needs help. Richie too. Derry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some Stenbrough! I've been getting questions regarding what will happen to Stan and I feel this is the best point in the fan fiction to sort of showcase where he is and how he is relevant to Eddie's reanimation and Maturin and all that stuff. I know it doesn't completely answer all of the questions, but some questions can't be answered until I finish this series. I'm safe to say it will happen soon, but I'm not sure exactly how many more chapters I need to feel satisfied with this work. I hope you guys enjoy it!


	30. It's Eating Me Up Inside

_Throughout the summer after freshman year of high school, Eddie decided it was best to keep what his mom told him a secret: that he was moving away. His closest friends, Bill, Stan, Mike, and even Richie, didn't even know about the news. He was waiting to tell them, but anytime he decided to, he chickened out. 'I'm just not brave enough' he continued to think. As August crept around the corner and as the stores in Derry began to promote 'back-to-school' sales, Eddie knew he had to tell them soon. He just didn't know how to tell them._

_"What classes are you taking Bill?" Stanley sat on the Clubhouse's swing as he dangled his feet in the air absentmindedly. Stan was growing taller, he is even the tallest of the Losers at a height of 5'9". With Richie being only 5'8" and a half, he constantly makes jokes about how he is still waiting on the last growth spurt. Bill, who was in the middle of reading an old, cheesy, horror comic book, looked up at Stanley and spoke._

_"F-For math I'm t-taking Calc. T-then physics and c-cuh-creative writing class." Bill said while continuing to focus on his comic book. His stutter has gotten a lot better over the years, but it still hasn't gone fully away. "Gym's my l-last c-cl-class."_

_"So is mine Billy boy. Looks like we'll have at least one class together," Richie chimed in. Richie, being as smart as he is, is taking a bunch of junior-level classes (with the exception of English, which he explains is due to his prior teacher's hatred of him)._

_"I'll have physics with you, Bill, and I think we have the same English class, Rich," Stanley peered at his friend's class sheet. Richie smiled before turning to look at Eddie, who remained silent throughout the conversation. "What about you Eddie?" Stanley asked as he placed his own class sheet back into his folder and put it neatly back into his backpack._

_"I, uh, am not gonna be at Derry this year," Eddie sighed, ripping off the metaphorical bandaid. He kept his gaze onto the floor instead of looking back at his friends. "I'm moving next Saturday."_

_"Next Saturday?" Richie kept looking at Eddie, who continued to stare at the ground, "What the fuck are you talking about?"_

_"Why didn't you tell us sooner, Eddie?" Stanley asked softly._

_"I didn't want it to be real," Eddie chuckled somberly. He fixed his brunette locks and pushed them away from his tear-filled eyes. Richie just continued to stare at him in shock. Bill switched his gaze from Stanley to Eddie as Stanley walked over to the shorter boy and hugged him. "We're going far, too. She didn't even give me a choice."_

_"Eddie. You can't leave," Richie whispered to no one in particular. you can't leave without me._

* * *

Richie couldn't remember how Eddie was now on top of him, kissing his neck softly and using one hand to pull onto Richie's raven-haired locks. His other hand grabbing onto Richie's shoulder, tightly squeezing it as Richie places his cold hands underneath Eddie's shirt. The warmth of Eddie's skin makes Richie lose it as he grinds his hips against the other's. In response, Eddie moaned quietly into Richie's ear. Richie's mind was all over the place, and now he began to focus clearly on what was happening, he decided to stop it by placing his hands on Eddie's soft cheeks. After the kiss was broken, the two looked into each other's eyes. 

"I don't think I can do this," Richie said after catching his breath. Eddie nodded and slowly got up from the couch and Richie's lap. Before he could do anything else, Richie grabbed his wrist. "I love you, Eddie. I want you to know that." 

"I love you, too," Eddie smiled as he placed a kiss on his lover's cheek, "Always have and always will." Richie teared up and kissed Eddie's lips just once more. "We should rest so we can do more research tomorrow," he said as he walked towards the closet where Mike stores his extra pillows and blankets. Before Eddie could turn around, Richie's arms were wrapped around him, hugging him from behind. "Hey," Eddie twisted around to see Richie's beautifully chiseled face and features. "I'm sorry. That I never wrote...or tried to see you," 

"It's not your fault. We all forgot," Richie cooed. 

_Yes, but I always felt you were missing. You're my missing piece, Rich._

* * *

_Eddie packed up and organized the last remaining boxes of his room. Being the last night in Derry, he looked around his bare room. It was as if he never lived here, he thought. There was just his books he was going to read in the car, his book pack, and his old journal that was left to pack. He was just going to keep them with him in the back seat of the car, in case his mother gets into a rant about how unsafe it is to drive on the highway. Ever since battling It, he's listened less and less to Mrs. Kaspbrak, who hasn't even noticed due to Eddie's automatic responses of "yes, mommy". Eddie sighed, crashing onto his bed. 'Maybe I'll just run away and come back here,' Eddie thought. It wouldn't work. She would plaster his face on all the milk cartons the first hour of his escape._

_A knock at his window made him jump out of his escape fantasy. He opened it, allowing the taller lankier kid to stumble into it. "What the hell are you doing, Richie?" Eddie hissed, "You know my mother will call the cops like she did last time-"_

_"Come out tonight," Richie interrupted nonchalantly, "Come out with me and Billy and Mikey and Staniel" Richie smiled as Eddie chuckled. "I'm serious. We can like cut our high school bucket list...do something crazy that bonds us for life,"_

_"Like killing a demonic clown?" Eddie raised an eyebrow, jokingly pushing Richie._

_"Well not as crazy as that, but....let's just hang out one more time? In case Mrs. Kaspbrak and you decide to leave tomorrow early without saying goodbye." Richie giggled, plopping himself on Eddie's bed._

_"I wouldn't do that...or let her do that, Rich." Eddie sat down beside him, their thighs touching very lightly, "What do you have in mind, exactly?"_

* * *

They decided to sleep on Mike's bed due to it being comfier and more room for both of them. Eddie first suggested the couch, but Richie wanted, no needed, to be beside him. He wanted to curl beside his lover just one more time just in case. Just in case. Eddie feels this too, so he burrows his face deeper into Richie's large bulky chest. They stay like this for the remainder of the night and to Richie, it feels...right. To Eddie, it feels right.

"Hey Rich," Eddie moved his head closer to Richie's ear so he could hear him whisper, "If it doesn't work...I just want you to know," He could hear the other man snoring, but this couldn't wait. He could feel _It_ fighting for control and he wasn't sure how much longer he could fight. "The months I've been...back, have been the happiest moments of my life and..." _Kill the faggot, Eddie-bear._ Eddie jumped away from Richie, who was sound asleep snoring loudly. "I said not him," He threatened to no one in particular. 

_You're not the one in control here._

* * *

_Eddie's bike screeched to a halt along with the others. "The perfect way to end a perfect night," Richie slurred as Mike laughed. The boys were all a few drinks in and a few blunts smoked as they walked towards the edge of the cliff._

_"It's too cold to do this, Richie," Eddie stammered, smiling and with his glazed-over eyes peered over the edge. He was afraid, always was when the Losers made him jump. "We could get hypothermia and die."_

_"Means we all die together and you don't leave us, my dear Eds," Richie chuckled._

_"Wait we're actually doing this?" Stan raised an eyebrow and frowned, "I didn't bring a towel."_

_"It'll be fun. It's like our tradition," Mike smirked._

_"T-t-the l-luh-losers' g-guh-goodbye," Bill chimed in, taking his shirt off._

_"See? Three against two," Richie stuck out his tongue, then yelped as Eddie hit his arm playfully. Stan rolled his eyes but began taking his clothes off anyway. Mike was the first to jump, followed by both Bill and Stan together. Richie walked towards the edge beside Eddie, who still had his arms folded._

_"This is a stupid tradition," Eddie spoke first, "It's not like I'm not gonna come back."_

_"I know you will," Richie lied, "But...just in case?" He wasn't sure if it was the liquid courage or the reality that time was running out between them, but Richie grabbed the smaller boy's hand. Eddie didn't protest. "Eds?"_

_"Yeah?" The brunette swallowed. Richie stared at him, causing Eddie's mind to run a thousand thoughts per minute. 'He knows you're dirty, Eddie-bear. we talked about this. you can't act up like this at our new place, Eddie-bear' "What Richie?" Eddie stammered impatiently, as Richie's expressionless face turned into a mischievous grin._

_"Geronimo!" He said, grabbing Eddie's wrist as they jumped down below. Eddie screamed until they hit the freezing water. Once submerged, Eddie splashed Richie and laughed._

_'The perfect way to end a perfect night' Eddie thought, as the Losers swam together. 'Why do you make it so hard to say goodbye, Rich."_

* * *

If you were to ask Richie what the worst way to wake up was, his answer would be a Beverly Marsh screaming at the top of her lungs and pounding at your door. His head was throbbing and it didn't help as he had to walk towards the loud pounding door. 

"RICHIE FUCKING TOZIER GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE. I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!" Beverly pounded frantically. 'You stupid fuck,' She kept thinking. The door opened to reveal Richie rubbing his eyes trying to wake up from his deep slumber, "What the fuck are you doing here? Alone with Eddie???" She pushed Richie to get herself into the house.

"Woah, Bev, please. I didn't have my coffee yet," Richie groaned.

"Where is he?" Bev asked as she looked around Mike's home. Richie looked around before walking towards the kitchen and began preparing himself a cup of coffee.

"Want some?" 

"Where is he, Richie?" 

"Listen, it's fine. I knew you guys would come here, and I'm glad you're the first to arrive." Richie walked over to her with a mug in his hand, "We've been looking at Mike's research, Bev. We can find something to...get that _thing_ out of him." Beverly sighed, pulling out her phone. 

"Eddie texted me last night. He told me it was an emergency. God, Richie I've been worried sick. Don't ever do that to me again,"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Richie looked at her quizzically as she handed him the phone, displaying Eddie's message:

_Bev. It's Eddie. Sos. Derry. Please take care of Rich._


End file.
